In the Solar System: Present Day
Dom could not contain himself. His excitement was contagious throughout the Collective. The Explorer had slowed and was closing rapidly on its destination--the backside of the sub planet called the Moon of the planet called Earth.
Dom now knew everything about Earth and its inhabitants, much more than the inhabitants knew themselves. He was pleased that these warlike people had not annihilated each other, but had become more peaceful and concerned about their planet. But there was still great danger in the blue planet’s burgeoning population, consumption and unbridled industrialization. Dom was pleased at how well humans had predicted global warming. He was, however, disturbed by the lack of understanding of the catastrophic effects of global warming to come. Or the profound effect that overpopulation would have on the land and water, with the release of as yet unknown poisons and new diseases running rampant without cure. The people of Earth did not know how close they were coming to the end. It was though they were riding in a plane, but oblivious that the plane had been hijacked and was about to crash. A fiery end with a huge meteor hit was far less likely than a collapse of the world economy, followed by a slow, strangling death, with no food, no clean water, and no pure air to breathe.
The backside of the Moon was chosen because Earth's inhabitants were so prone to panic when faced with the unknown. Dom and the Collective wanted to give no forewarning from which these warlike creatures could mount some sort of response that would hamper or slow the speed of the Relief. Parking there, behind the Moon, unseen or sensed, would allow them to deploy the relief mechanism. It was simple. Humans were hunters and gatherers. Their brains were directly connected through the visual cortex to their eyes. Humans learned almost everything through seeing. The auditory sense was important too. So the plan was to use the auditory sense to help bring people into the visual sense. The Senses had developed a way to reach all six billion inhabitants of Earth nearly at once.
In the great room, the model of Earth had grown. It was now a nearly perfect one ten thousandth scale model. Around Earth, in fixed orbit, were three glowing pearlescent balls, each one a thousand kilometers in scale diameter. Placed in geosynchronous orbit, 18,000 miles from the surface, the Sense Projectors were not very large; they only appeared that way. However, there was a need for them to be easily seen from Earth's surface.
The Sense Projectors had been in preparation for rotations. Within, they contained the knowledge of both the Collective and Universal Intelligences, and the power of the Senses. Fully maneuverable, they contained asteroid dust fuel and a miniature drive similar to the Explorer for their short journey to their destinations. The surface of each spherical Projector was an energy projector that turned off and on from the Senses inside. For the journey, the surface would be turned off, giving no visual or other indication of each small Sense Projector's approach. The Earth's defense, weather, and astronomical systems were well known and easily thwarted with Sensor designed nullifying information. The Explorer had been blocking detection since entering the solar system of Earth by sending false images and information to the Earth's observatories and military sensing equipment—the ultimate stealth approach.
The Sense Projectors would be invisible as they moved into place. Even the Senses could not control the spheres from the backside of the Moon or Earth. The three Sense Projectors had synchronized their Senses so that, although their journeys would be of different length, all would arrive at the same time and effect the relief at the same time, the Earth over.
There was no timetable. Relief would commence when the Sense Projectors were in position. Time was imperative. Thousands were dying daily unnecessarily. The Collective was prepared for its task and executed it effortlessly.
Washington D.C.: A Mid Winter Night
After the flurry of publicity over his connection with the storied Ice Man, Otzi, Albert had settled into relative anonymity. He dated some of his fellow faculty members, and some of the career women that D.C. is known for, but he could not find one who measured up to his beloved Esther. Albert’s semi-continental existence, shuttling from his full time teaching in D.C. to his dedicated little wilderness, left little time to establish a relationship.
As was his department's custom, Albert had one night class. He had arrived home after his 3pm class, checked his mail, and then his e-mail. Albert paid some bills from his computer and settled into correcting experiment reports from Microbiology 301. There were 43 reports from two classes, so it took him some time. When he finished, it was already 5:15. He flipped on the early news and watched from the kitchen. He broiled a couple of venison steaks he'd left out to thaw in the morning, microwaved an Idaho potato, and some beans he'd harvested from his garden in the UP. Albert stood at the counter, eating and watching the news; washing it down with some current wine he'd made the summer before. Nothing special on the news that evening. Soon it was 6:30 and time to go.
Albert put the papers he'd corrected into his pack, bundled up against the cold, and headed out into the street. He loved the six-block walk to the University in any season, but these winter trips were invigorating. It was 17 degrees that evening, so he pulled his hood up and wore his fur-lined gloves. Albert walked quickly. His breath puffing clouds as he walked. The streets were well lit and white from a recent snow, but were otherwise virtually deserted.
Albert's night class, Biology 420, was well attended. The cold and the fact that most of his students had full-time jobs did not deter them from coming and earning their degrees part-time. He admired their perseverance. Albert had gone to school full time, in a different era and culture. By 9:15, the lab had cleared out. He packed his backpack again and headed out onto the deserted campus. Just Albert and his thoughts, walking home on a cold city night. He could hear each step as the heels of his boots hit the sidewalk. His cell phone rang in his pack, forcing him to stop the cadence he was keeping. "Damn!" he thought, "Who could be calling me now." He enjoyed these solitary walks and rarely talked to anyone on the cell phone while he was walking. "A good habit to keep," he told himself.
Albert dropped his pack on a snow bank and pulled out the phone. An unfamiliar, but very pleasant, female voice said, "Continue to the intersection with L Street and look left, you won't be disappointed." Before he could say anything, the line went dead. That's strange, Albert thought. Well, I'm going that way anyway. Guess it won't hurt to have a look. As he started that way again, people were already pouring into the street.
The Galaxy Explorer on the Back Side of the Moon
Approaching at a fraction of the speed of light, the Explorer had slipped into the Earth's Solar System without detection. The Explorer was nearly as big as the Moon, but hid nicely behind it, the ship’s drive maintaining a constant five thousand kilometer distance from the Moon's surface, letting Earth's gravity do the work, locked into the same orbit as the Moon rotating around the Earth. The Moon's meager gravity and slow rotation made this holding position easy for the Senses to maintain. The Explorer would not remain there long, for its mass added to that of the Moon would have dire consequences for the Earth, beginning with high tides, and possibly earthquakes and volcanic eruptions.
Dom and the others watched as the portal opened and the three Sense Projectors deployed. It was as though the Explorer, finally, had given birth. They watched as the Projectors accelerated around the Moon, and then they watched with neutrino penetrators through the mass of the Moon as the Projectors danced in a simultaneous ballet of great beauty and anticipation. For the moment, normal communication was lost. The Projectors were on their own.
Back on Earth
The street was alive with activity. Cars were stopping and their occupants spilling out, leaving their car doors open and engines running. People were running, walking, limping, in wheelchairs, and even being carried on stretchers from a nearby hospital. This strange parade was in various states of dress, but most had thrown on heavy coats against the night cold but left the doors to their houses and apartments open. The exhaust from the stopped cars and breath from the moving mass filled the air with a quickly evaporating fog, made even more strange because the night had become almost as bright as the day, a moonlight far brighter than any he had ever seen. Albert felt like he was in some strange Marathon, only he didn't have far to run. Up the block, people were running toward him. Everyone was turning the corner at L Street. Albert, running fast now, was one of the first to turn the corner.
What Albert saw was not in the street, quickly filling wall-to-wall with everyone from the half block on either side, but in the sky. To the southwest, about at a forty-five degree angle from where he was running, was a Moon-like object in the sky. It appeared more than twice the size of the Moon or Sun and glowed with a pearl-like light that lit the street and cast dark shadows. Transfixed, he stopped running, and stared at it. And then he heard it, the others were singing a strange, yet very beautiful, song. It was in his ears. He knew the song.
The Moon before Albert grew and changed colors until it filled the sky. He focused on the center, from hence the colors burst forth. A psychedelic wave of colorful thoughts flowed into him like a river. But he felt good, relieved, and warm. He was in a dream of the ages. Albert was singing.
And then it was over. The huge moon was still in the sky, but Albert no longer saw the vision. He didn't need to. He understood. He was relieved. But Albert’s work was not over. He stood for a moment, observing others as they stood or fell to their knees. Multicolored beams flowed from the moon directly into the pupils of each person's eyes as they stood, paralyzed by the sight, eyes wide open and singing. The chorus of human voices, acapella, was the most beautiful sound he'd ever heard. And Albert knew what they were singing. He bolted and ran.
Albert headed up the block from which he'd come. He ran like he had as a child--joyfully, with abandon. Until now, he had forgotten what it was like to run without pain. The abandoned cars were still there, engines running, but the street was now empty. Almost. Quickly, he reached a walk down to a basement apartment in a brick building. One set of old tracks marked the two inches of new snow on the steps. Through the single window, it was dark inside. Albert had never been a burglar, but he quickly swung his bag down, reached in for his Swiss Army knife, selected the right tool, and picked the lock.
When the door opened, a tepid warmness greeted him, but also the unmistakable smell of near death. He pushed the door open and found a light switch. What greeted him was a dirty little living room with worn furniture. A kitchen off the living room was empty. When he turned on the light to the back bedroom, smelling strongly of urine and worse, he made out the form of a man lying on the bed, near comatose, his tongue out, drooling, and his eyes open, fixed on some imaginary spot on the ceiling.
There was a tack board next to the bed with some notes tacked to it, and, what appeared to be a nursing schedule. There was no time to wait for a nurse. Albert found a robe and pulled off the covers. The man, who appeared to be in his nineties—suffering from the effects of a stroke or Alzheimer's—tried to resist, but Albert spoke softly and calmed him. He was tall, close to six feet, but he was skin and bones and weighed little more than a hundred pounds. He and the sheets were dirty, but Albert didn't bother with that. He just rolled the man over enough to get the robe on. And then, back in the living room, he found a dusty, unused folding wheelchair and brought it into the bedroom.
Albert gathered the frail old man in his arms and gently lifted him to the chair. The guy had stockings on his feet. Albert found some slippers and put them on him, and then he took two of the cleanest blankets and tucked them in around him. The old man just stared straight ahead and drooled, a slight smile on his face. Albert had left the front door open, and it was getting very cold in the bedroom. He wheeled the man out and closed the door behind him. Albert‘s feet were sure as he pulled the chair up, step by step, to the street. still empty. When he again arrived at the corner, the throngs were gone, but there were a few people in wheelchairs, hospital beds, and stretchers, attended by others like Albert on L Street, in the light of the new moon, getting their relief.
The old man seemed to recognize the bright object in the sky, and stared at it. Soon the multicolored beam, like a benign lightning bolt, struck the man in the eyes. Albert was now observing, close-up, what had happened to him. The beam curiously split, just before the eyes, and entered both, simultaneously. Soon, the man was singing in a deep, but beautiful voice. The song was in a strange language, but Albert understood it. He understood everything now.
It took fifteen minutes, but the old man changed. His eyes became clear and bright, and his pallid cheeks became rosy with new vitality against the cold. The beam evaporated as quickly as it came. He turned to Albert and spoke: "Hello Albert. Thanks for saving me. My name is George, George Lockett. (Albert knew his name before George spoke it, but it was wonderful to hear him speak it.) I feel so relieved… Well, we'd better be heading back."
With that, George Lockett rose from his wheelchair, retied his robe and wrapped the blankets around himself in a makeshift, but adequate coat, and turned the chair around to begin pushing it toward home. "Looks like we've got work to do," he said. Albert knew, but the idea of work had already changed. He walked back to his apartment with George by his side, listening to wonderful tales from George's long life. Winter was wonderful, too. Child like and wonderful.
