Red Alert

RED Alert
By
Wilbur Arron

Planetary Director Throg was blasted awake by the Emergency Red Alert alarm coming through his commlink. The piercing multi-frequency shriek jolted him out of his rest support so that he fell off the head rest and on to the body cushion. His head landed with a thud on the body support hurting his jaw and forcing his tearing teeth up into his skull. The pain brought him to full awake in a microtye. He bolted upwards looking at the blinking deep red light on the commlink and took a deep breath.

“Shut off that cursed alarm,” he shouted. “I’m awake, you slithering leaches.”

The tone immediately quit followed by the AI controller's hollow sounding voice. “High Counselor Throg, your presence is immediately required in the Operations Room for a Level Five Alert.”

“Are we under attack?” he yelled out.

“No, High Counselor,” the automated voice replied calmly. “There is a Level Five Planetary emergency in Sector Orange-Five, Brightsong System. Your present is immediately required by Herd Master Kqung.”

It must be serious if the Herd Master sounded the alarm. “On my way,” he called out and almost leaped through the door from his quarters. He almost forgot to put on his sash of office before he left. He could just see himself appearing naked in the Operations Center. What a growler that would make.

Once he left his quarters, he stepped on the transway to take him to a transit capsule. His large legs and claws barely fit on the narrow belt. At least his cycle mate was not here this evening to be frightened to death. She had brood-duty in the Herd Gathering complex’s nests.

The transway took his bulk about three hundred byetts on the moving platform. He could see other members of the herd leadership also rushing out the doors, and yes, some forgot their sashes. They would be the brunt of rude jokes for the next period. As he got to the transit capsule, those around him made way for him since he was of higher rank than they were. He was about to take the capsule to the Operations center when Herd Watch Leader, Frotox, jumped in behind him. The four-legged Solerinn squeezed his bulk into the small space behind him. He was actually of higher rank than he so the capsule should belong to him, but this was no time to get into an argument about status. They both fitted in the capsule as the attendant slammed the door behind them. The capsule lurched forward almost knocking both of them off their feet. The transparent egg-shaped container bolted onto the magnetic induction track and accelerated like a bounding Pushoe. It was all he could do with his small arms to grab the support column to keep standing.

“Throg, you know what his slug shit is all about?” Frotox growled at him in defiance of behavior protocols.

“Planetary Emergency on Brightsong,” he growled back. “Other than that, nothing.”

“This better be good,” Frotox grumbled out loud. “Or some poor sevator will be on manure recycle watch for a full cycle.”

He tried not to get angry at the insult to normal behavior protocols but instead answered, “I was told the Herd Master called the alert, so I’d keep my opinions to myself.”

“Frotox just nodded and both remained silent for the remaining trip to the central dome. When they reached the one thousand byetts diameter dome, they did not stop as they normally would. Trafficcom knew who was in the capsule and their importance; so instead of slowing down, their container suddenly shot up by magnetic induction to the emergency entrance to the dome: a seldom used way in except in cases of emergency or secrecy. The capsule stopped like it hit a mountain, again almost knocking them off their feet. The door flew open and he let Frotox precede him into the entrance. A Path Guard in a deep red sash stood at attention.

“The Herd Master has ordered your immediate attendance,” he reported. He then turned and ran off down the hallway at a trot. Both Frotox and he followed at a quick pace. He led them into a large open space crowded with workstations and staff monitoring the vast region of space controlled by the United Herds Alliance. The air smelled of ozone and the odor of two hundred males of various species of this and other worlds controlled by the United Herds.

Frotox, Throg, over here,” he heard a familiar voice shout. It was Herd Master Kqung.

Both he and Frotox moved quickly around the mass of live bodies with their head planted into their control stations. They reached the platform on which the Herd Leader normally sits alone as is his privilege. The four legged and four armed Alcanin motioned for both of them to join him at the master control station. Both climbed the stairs and stood next to the Herd Leader in a definite breech of behavior protocol.

“I am glad you are both here,” he said excitedly. “We will need you both to organize your departments for an immediate rescue operation on Brightsong”

“What happened?” he asked.

“I don’t know much about Brightsong,” Frotox admitted. “Only that it has creatures similar to us and that the Masters of Knowledge want to preserve them.”

Throg had to admit he knew little more about the place himself, but said nothing.

Kqung continued explaining. “Deep space monitoring just picked up an emergency broadcast from our Autoprobes in and around Brightsong. They have been doing continuous surveys of the many species that are biologically similar to us that live on that planet. Over the last three hundred cycles we have noticed a gradual decrease in their local environment that is putting stress on the many populations. It is getting dryer and hotter mostly due to a slight shift in Brightsong’s orbit. You know many of the species are biochemically similar to us except for their huge size and mass. Our policy is to preserve their creatures for one day reeducation and possible evolutionary enhancement.”

“What went wrong?” he asked simply.

“Approximately two hundred tye ago, the master probe there sent out an alert. There has been a huge meteor impact on that planet. An impact that preliminary atmospheric and biosphere models indicate may cause an extinction-level event.”

Fortox growled slightly, “Why didn’t the probes pick up the track of the meteor before impact. They have circuits that allow them to do that. We could have destroyed it before it impacted with enough warning.”

“Kushar,” the Herd Master muttered to the head controller.

The DaDorian controller scanned a report on the vidscreen. “According to probe tracks, the meteor was in a rough orbit that intersected the large fifth planet. The effects of the medium gas giant’s gravity cased the meteor to shift orbit into the inner star system. If hit Brightsong before reliable tracking data could be accumulated. The probes did not pick up the meteor until 500 tye before impact. It was too late to do anything at that point except send out a warning.”

“Well what can we do about it now”, Fortox said. “The damage is done.”

“What is the damage,” Throg asked.

Kushar studied his vidscreens for a tye before answering. “According to spectral and laser sensors, a tremendous amount of sulfur compounds were ejected high into the planetary atmosphere. That will definitely cause solar energy levels from their star to be reflected back into space causing massive temperature drops over time. That plus the molten rock ejecta from the impact spread high in the atmosphere and is coming down causing massive fires around the planet. Kutar, the Master of Knowledge responsible for the Brightsong system, reports the fires may be large enough to deplete the Oxygen levels to below those needed to sustain life. The drop in temperatures may cause the native species to die of cold and starvation over the next few cycles.”

“As you recall, many of the local species are cold blooded like our ancient ancestors,” the Herd Master added. “In my youth as a patrol scout, I was part of the party that landed on Brightsong as part of the Exploship ‘Far Eye Seeker'. Our discovery of that planet and the life forms so similar to our ancient forms was an eye opener to all of us. We never before found our biochemistry in creatures that developed outside of our star cluster. This caused quite a stir in the herds and we were authorized to take the time to do a full biochemical and genetic breakdown. I was fascinated at the results. Since then, I always felt a bonding between me and that planet.”

“Well I do not see what we can do about the place now,” Fortox said convincingly. “It is doomed to extinction.”

“Maybe not doomed,” Throg spoke up. “Granted anything with our type of biochemistry will not survive this, but the other species may well survive this impact, especially the warm blooded scavengers located there.”

“But our herd mates will not,” the Herd Master said. “That is why we must immediately send out a rescue mission to collect as many specimens of the species there. Even if we only get their DNA, the Masters of Knowledge should be able to regrow the specimens at a later date. I would also like to transport several intact specimens to another planet, if we can find one that will support their biochemistries.”

“What!” Frotox shrieked. “I don’t know much about that place but many of those species would not even fit into the hold of our normal transport ships. It would take a hollowed-out Colony Ship, to move them. We don’t have many and they are slow. I am not sure we could get them to Brighsong before the inevitable extinction.“

Throg then broke in. “However: the plan to collect their DNA may work, but it will take almost all of our research ships to carry something like this out and then we would have to move them there fast which would require mobilizing most of our support and repair ships. The cost would be close to that of setting up a major colony from scratch. I am not sure the United Herds Assembly would approve such a cost.”

There was silence for a moment as that realization set in. The Herd Master’s face then tightened in a shoving of resolve as if ready for a deadly fight. He spoke with conviction bordering on fanaticism. “That will be my problem to solve. If we can save these distant brothers of ours, we must do it, even if the herd has my head when we are done. This is that important thing.”

The Herd Master’s conviction surprised both of them. Both Throg and Frotx looked at each other with concern before Frotox spoke up in a low voice as if a supplicant. “Then what would you have me do, Herd Master?”

The Herd Master stood up to his full height and looked down at the Solerinn like a father looking at one of his hatchlings. “As Leader of the Herd Watch I command you to contact all our Support Ships and any unused Colony Ships and alert them for immediate use. You will tell all of them to prepare for an extended mission to Brightsong to support our fleet of scientific research ships and provide security for the Masters of Knowledge that will accompany them. You will pull as many ships as you need for this work and, if necessary, break assignments to concentrate on this task.”

The Herd Leader then turned to Throg and spoke with an equally commanding voice. “As Leader of our Planetary Exploration Group, I command you to take as many research and large transport ships as you need to gather as many different samples of the species on Bringtsong to insure their continuing survival. You will collect living specimens if possible, DNA if you have to. You will remove anyone from their current assignments and redirect them for a trip to Brightsong. You will assemble what Masters of Knowledge are needed to assist you in this task. I give you complete authority to take them off their current projects and reposition them to this one. Time is of the essence. We must not fail.”

That was as convincing as anything he ever heard the Herd Master speak in the twenty-five cycles he had known him. He was serious and he spoke loud enough where everyone in the dome heard him. The place was as quiet as a burial vault. Stunned silence from everyone.

Frotox and he looked at each other and both realized how serious their supreme leader was taking this. There was only one thing they could do. Both bowed their head in submission speaking simultaneously, “Yes, Herd Master, we obey.”

Frotox then stood, grabbed the microphone and starting barking orders to his staff. “All Support and unused Colony Ship will report status and prepare for extended assignment. Support ships will take on full loads of fuel and parts to support the assembling fleet. All off duty staff will report for duty immediately to coordinate this assignment. All secondary control rooms will be activated for extended use. We are on Red Alert, Condition Five.”

Throg then made a similar announcement to everyone in his group. In a tenthtye, the dome was in pandemonium.

Throg then looked at Frotox and shrugged. “Well, I know what we will be doing for the next half cycle.”

The big Solerian could only nod his head in agreement.”

THE END