2063 AD

Planet Gryn

“After years of training,” Karen said. “Am I being punished because of, ’shoot to kill Carson’?”

“No, Karen,” Chuck Davison said. “Your dad has nothing to do with it. I’ll explain later.”

“I will get outside though, right?”

“Yes,—later.”

Karen turned to one of the two men chosen. “Remember when you’re out there, Al, think beautiful thoughts.”

“I’ll think of you Karen.” Al clipped his white helmet into position. The dark, reflective visor was raised. Al winked at his dark-haired colleague before he lowered his visor.

In other circumstances Karen and Al would have made a beautiful couple, but he was a flirt, and she was dedicated to her profession.

Mikhail, the cosmonaut, checked the security of the connections on Al’s suit and accessories. The oxygen tank, timer, external air pressure indicator and communications unit, all received a thumbs-up. All items were checked against the flight commander’s list.

Chuck watched with pride as his people went through their drills. They’d performed the sequences many times, but this time it was different, because it was for real.

* * *

The Wanderer IV landing craft was seated firmly on three extended legs. It sat on Grynk, a planet which had taken six months for the crew to reach from Earth. Orbiting high above was the unmanned mother-ship. It was a design harking back to Space exploration of several decades before, but there was confidence in the detachable rocket-propelled system.

Al stepped into the airlock, which was large enough for two people. He stood in the centre of the cubicle and reached to press the oversized red button which would seal the unit. He then pressed the green button and the floor slowly descended.

Chuck used the radio handset. “We’ve come a long way Al, so stay nearby, and report what you see. Be objective.”

“Okay, Skipper,”Al said. “I’m trying not to, but as I’m descending, I’m imagining we’ve landed in a place like the Scottish Highlands.”

“Don’t worry about having positive thoughts Al.” Chuck laughed. “I guess we’d all do something like that after six months in a semi-suspended state.” He paused. “Karen said she’d think of Australia and Mikhail said he’d fantasise about the Balkans.”

“What about you?”

“Me?” Chuck said. “I’d probably think about the Rocky Mountains, but hey, let’s get back to the job. Give us that report.”

“Okay, guys,” Al said. “I’ve stepped from the platform, and it’s incredible. The ground feels like a deep-pile carpet, and the area ahead looks like dense pine forest.”

Relaying the external imagery was important, because the crew had no visuals of the exterior. The inclusion of windows had proved a weakness on all prototypes of the craft when travelling at light-speed. The Wanderer IV variant had no external views.

“Hey Al,” Chuck said. “Come on—leave the dreams behind and give us facts. You’re our first eyes down there.”

“Seriously—straight in front of me is a lush meadow with a few large rocks off to the right. To the left is a narrow, crystal clear stream with reeds and a variety of coloured flowers.”

“Are you hallucinating?”

“No, I know it sounds strange, but I’m telling it like it is.” Al paused and repeated his description of the landscape.

“Okay—don’t move. Mikhail is ready. He’s coming down.”

“To give his first impression too?”

“Yes.”

* * *

“Hello, Sir,” Mikhail said. “I am below the craft and seeing what Al reported. I have grass under my feet. From left to right, I have a stream, meadows, mountains and foothills. To the right is a rocky outcrop.”

Al reached down to his right thigh and unclipped a piece of equipment. He nodded to Mikhail, and the Russian unclipped his extra equipment too. Both men were now confident about exploring.

“Okay,” Chuck said. “I want you to turn and tell me what’s behind you Mikhail, but take your time, because until you guys go for a walk, we don’t know how safe it will be.”

“That is strange,” Mikhail said after a pause. “I have turned 180 degrees and behind me is rocks, rubble, sand and craters.”

“Okay I’ve got that. I’d like both you and Al to check your instruments and give me a reading on the atmosphere. It’s supposed to have a similar mix of ingredients to Earth, but I want to hear it from both of you before you switch off oxygen.”

“Al is not here, Sir,” Mikhail said. “I have turned around again, and he has disappeared.”

“Stay where you are,” Chuck said. “That is an order Mikhail. Do not move.” The flight commander’s voice increased an octave as he called to the first of the landing party. “Al, where are you?”

There was no response.

* * *

Al had noticed a movement near the rocks and wandered off to investigate. As he stepped forward he found it easy to move if he took it slow. There was a little gravity.

He checked his instruments and as earlier probes had suggested, the atmosphere was similar to Earth. He resisted the temptation to raise his visor. On his way to the rocks he thought how wonderful it would be to have come so far and find creatures that looked like his beautiful, but unattainable colleague Karen.

Strands of long dark hair fluttered from behind the rock formation and Al couldn’t help himself—he had to check it out. He tried to quicken his pace, but the weight of his boots and suit slowed him. He could hear Chuck calling, but six months spent mainly asleep had left Al with an urge to explore. He didn’t need orders.

“Oh my God!” Al exclaimed as he stepped behind the rocks. His words were transmitted, then there was a burst of static, and the radio went dead.

Standing in front of Al was a stunning vision of womanhood. She stood the same height as Al, and was naked. She could have been Karen’s twin, except for minor details.

The hair was long and flowing, the way Al liked to see, instead of the cropped elfin look Karen had adopted for the mission. Al appraised the tanned physique and noted the breasts were perfect, but larger than his colleague’s. This beauty was also taller—as if his personal preferences had been added.

Al made no move to stop the slender hand as it reached forward to take his weapon. He stood still as the beauty reached up and unclipped his helmet before lifting it free from his head. Al’s eyes opened wide and his lips parted.

* * *

“Hello Al,” Chuck said. “Speak to me Al.”There was no response. “Hello Mikail, what can you see now?” Nothing. The commander turned and looked at his remaining crew member as he continued on the radio. “Listen to me Al, and you too Mikhail. Be prepared to defend yourselves.”

“Defend themselves?” Karen said and inclined her head towards the commander. “Would you like to explain that statement?”

“The top brass knew you would have nothing to do with the mission if you knew we had weapons,” Chuck said. “We didn’t know what we’d find here.”

“Well,” Karen said. “The brass got that right. So, after hundreds of years of learning how not to arrive in a strange land, we’ve reverted to type. We’ve come in peace—bearing weapons.” She shook her head. “No wonder I sensed I was being left out. That’s why those two were chosen. You’re all like my father, the Admiral—shoot first.”

“The weapons were stashed in the airlock, so that—”

Karen held up her right hand, palm forward. She shook her head.

The pair sat in silence in the capsule.

* * *

When there was no response from the landing party after thirty minutes, Chuck broke the ominous silence. “I’m not happy about any of this, Karen, and I’m sorry.”

“Why?” She said sharply. “Because there have been no shots fired?”

“Damn it, Karen. Could we deal with that topic later please? I’m worried.”

“Do you think it could be equipment failure?”

“I’d prefer to believe equipment failure, but I’ve got a gut feeling it’s something else.”

“It sounds like a home from home down there.”

“It sounds perfect, I admit,” Chuck said. “They both mentioned a stream, and grass and trees and so on.”

“Exactly, so what’s the problem?”

“They described the same environment.” Chuck paused. “I don’t think they saw an environment, I think they saw an image.”

“You’ve lost me.” Karen’s brow creased.

“When Mikhail gave his report, he told us exactly what Al had seen.”

“Yes, because they saw the same thing.”

“Think about it. Al told us what he’d seen, but Mikhail gave us the same report. There was no difference. He didn’t describe anything in detail. Mikhail simply reeled off what Al had said—grass, stream, mountains, rocks and so on.”

“Okay,” Karen said. “I still don’t get your point?”

“There are two things bothering me. Al didn’t do the natural thing. He didn’t turn to tell us what was behind him. He was so enthralled with what he saw to his front.” He looked into Karen’s eyes. “Mikhail had no pre-conception when he turned around to look behind him, and all he saw was rocks and sand.”

“Are you thinking that Al saw what he wanted to see, and then that image was implanted in Mikhail’s mind before he’d even got down to the surface?”

Chuck nodded. “Now, with that in mind, I’d like you to imagine what they described, and tell me what stands out from both accounts.”

Karen turned away from Chuck’s steely gaze. “I’m sorry, but the whole place sounds perfect.”

“Close your eyes Karen,” Chuck said. “Now think about walking in a lush meadow with a forest nearby, and a stream, and mountains and ….” He let his description fade.

“Wildlife.” Karen’s blue eyes opened wide. “There was no mention of insects, birds, bears, wolves—anything. There was no mention of wildlife, by either of them.”

Chuck was staring at her and nodding. “Why didn’t Al see the wildlife?”

“He didn’t see it, because it wasn’t there?”

“Partly accurate,” Chuck said. “He didn’t see what he didn’t imagine. Now, why didn’t Mikhail see any wildlife?”

“Oh God. Mikhail didn’t see any wildlife, because it wasn’t placed in his mind by Al.” Her lips trembled. “What do we do now?”

“Now … Now, we wait.”

“Well, we’ve all had our wake-up nutrients, so the guys should be fine for a long visit before they come back.” Concern was evident in her tone.

“Yes, they’ve had plenty of nourishment. I’m sure when they meet up and realise that the communications are failing, they’ll come back.” He wasn’t convincing himself, or Karen.

* * *

Chuck and Karen occupied themselves testing every piece of equipment they could. Apart from a signal which told Mission Control on Earth that the spaceship was still intact, there was a loss of verbal communication. It was one of the areas where the scientists had expected there might be issues.

They’d worked out how to keep the astronauts alive and nourished in a semi-conscious state for months on end, and how to fly them thousands of miles across Space, but they couldn’t control communications in a distant, unknown environment.

The airlock buzzed.

“At last.” Karen sighed with relief. She stood and peered into the airlock.

“Step back from there,” Chuck said. “Whoever it is won’t have room to get in.”

Karen stepped back and half-turned, her eyelashes fluttering, and lips quivering. The door slid open and a white suit stepped from the airlock into the main chamber. A flash of amber light warned that the lift in the airlock had descended again.

As Karen stepped forward, raising her hands to remove the helmet, Chuck gripped her arms and pulled her back. At the same time, there was another buzz as the airlock was operated again. Chuck and Karen stared at the silent white astronaut suit to their front, then the hatch opened and another white suit entered. Not a word was spoken.

When both white Space-suits were standing side by side, apart from the name-tags on the chest, they had similar small stains across the front, although the patterns were different. The substance was sticky and red, but no longer warm, or coursing through the veins of the owners.

Both dark visors lifted, but instead of Al and Mikhail, there were quivering transparent blobs occupying the suits. Hints of colour appeared, as if they were huge bubbles.

‘You Earthlings squander opportunity,’ a telepathic voice said.

Karen and Chuck turned to each other, and tears poured down Karen’s cheeks as she reached for her commander’s hand.

Chuck’s expression confirmed he’d heard the same voice in his head.

‘You are fickle creatures. Deceit exists within your team, yet fear gels you together. We have observed Earth for thousands of years. The single constant is your destructive approach to every opportunity. You are worried, because exploration here has been spoiled by your aggressive nature.’

Chuck said, “There is always a need to—” he stopped talking and squinted as pressure built up within his skull. He stared at the two white suits.

Karen felt Chuck’s hand squeeze hers tight and she gasped.

The voice continued. ‘We presented your colleagues with what they wanted to see, but both produced weapons. Your crew’s actions have sealed your fates, and those of your species.’

Both space-suits slipped from their new hosts to become piles of white fabric exposing two large shimmering blobs with no discernible features.

‘We have evolved beyond your understanding over the millennia. We use telepathy instead of voice and we can present ourselves in any form. Our race developed without need of physical structure, but our feeding habits are extraordinary. To maintain our species, we need special nutrients—a human diet.’

Chuck had silently noted the discarded suits were minus the powerful laser handguns strapped to the right thigh. It was the last thing Chuck noted, silently, or otherwise.

Fortunately for Karen, she’d fainted.

* * *

Pacific Ocean

Earth

Lieutenant Commander Jack O’Hara kept his binoculars pressed against his eyes with his left hand. He reached down and pressed a button with his right hand. A siren sounded throughout the aircraft carrier.

“What have you got O’Hara?” Admiral Carson said, arriving on the bridge.

“There, Sir,” O’Hara said, pointing with his right hand while observing the descending capsule and its three parachutes. “It’s five nautical miles away, Sir.”

“All non-essential personnel out, now,” Carson said.

Five officers left the bridge.

“Okay,” Carson said. “Let’s see what we’ve got.”

“With respect, Sir,” O’Hara said. “You’re talking about a team of our bravest people. The capsule has returned early, but—”

“I’m well aware of the crew, O’Hara,” Carson interrupted. “I didn’t get this gold on my shoulders from working on a damn fishing boat, son.” He lifted the radio handset. “This is Admiral Carson. Contact the frigate. Prepare the Marines.”

“Sir,” O’Hara said. “Our orders were to—”

“O’Hara. I received a Top Secret message this morning.” He paused. “I’ve been given discretion from the President, to use the alternate welcome.”

“The alternate welcome?” O’Hara squinted. He glanced at the capsule, and turned to his superior.

Carson said, “Believe me, I’m hoping we don’t have to ….” He lifted his binoculars and looked towards the descending capsule, ignoring the younger officer.

O’Hara stared at the senior officer, and shook his head. He tried to work out what was going on. He knew Admiral Carson’s reputation for zero tolerance, and an awful truth dawned on him, but he remained silent. Surely not?

* * *

“The capsule door is slightly open,” the recovery officer reported on the radio. “No crew aboard, Sir!”

“Captain.” Carson sighed, and gripped the handset. “Get away from that capsule, and get your team back to your ship as soon as possible.”

“But, Sir, the recovery of the crew … they must be in the water—”

“Captain Stone, I’ll give you one minute to get your boat and team clear. Now, do as you’re goddamn told, and get back to your base vessel.” The Admiral glanced at O’Hara, and then flicked channels on the ship’s radio.

“Totem pole—this is Sitting Bull,” Carson said, and stared at the distant capsule bobbing around on the surface. “Take all scalps.” He swallowed hard. “I say again, take all scalps.”

O’Hara’s eyes widened. “What are you doing?”

“We don’t know what the hell is in that craft.”

The high-pitched screams of jet engines were heard as a brace of US Navy fighters dived from their holding pattern high above the flotilla. Four trails of vapour appeared in the sky, as both planes launched pairs of air to surface missiles. The aircraft banked and returned to patrol altitude.

The white plumes levelled low above the waves as the missiles travelled in concert. All four found the capsule simultaneously and detonated in a powerful ball of flame. The vivid colours of the fireball gave way to a dark mushroom of smoke, and then it drifted on the breeze. Debris rained into the water long after the craft disintegrated.

Admiral Carson closed his eyes, and rubbed a finger and thumb across them and sniffed.

O’Hara lowered his binoculars and shook his head. “Yes, Sir, Admiral, that is one helluva welcome. I’m a naval man too, but if I lose people on a mission, I investigate, I don’t shoot at freakin’ invisible threats.”

Many of the men and women in the flotilla had been delighted to witness the return of the capsule and had been using binoculars. They’d looked on in wonder at the damage caused by Space debris, and the scorched patches of black and brown from the speed of re-entry. The capsule had bobbed about on the surface, and nobody considered the open, possibly damaged door.

The capsule’s obliteration was beyond comprehension to all witnesses.

For once, Admiral Carson didn’t want to shoot first, because his daughter was on that crew, but he knew there had been no communication with them since they’d landed on the distant planet. More worrying was the craft returning faster than the outward journey.

The capsule hatch was automatically locked on the return flight, and could only be opened from outside. Every member of the crew knew to sit tight and await recovery. They had been briefed on the outcome if the capsule opened from the inside.

It was a failsafe for Earth’s inhabitants.

* * *

As pieces of the capsule became flotsam, a group of transparent shapes moved under the surface of the waves. Two shapes propelled themselves towards the carrier, while one attached itself to the Marine boarding party’s craft. Others set off for vessels in the flotilla.

Leading Seaman Johnny Casey was daydreaming at the ship’s rail on the Admiral’s aircraft carrier. He noticed a peculiar blurring under the surface nearby, and as sailors do, he fantasised about a beautiful mermaid.

At first as the shape broke the surface it was indistinct, but it developed rapidly. From the water, emerged a beautiful creature with long blonde hair and the upper body of a well-endowed woman. The lower half was a fish, complete with golden-red scales and broad tail—just as Johnny had imagined. The mermaid climbed, silently pressing the palms of her hands against the metal surface of the massive ship.

Johnny’s final few seconds of life found him facing the most beautiful creature he could have imagined. Johnny’s empty, blood-stained uniform was left crumpled on the deck.

Two transparent quivering blobs moved into the lower decks of the vessel, leaving a damp trail behind them. They made steady progress, feeding voraciously.

Admiral Carson had just reached his cabin when something caught his attention.

“Sonofab—” was the venomous outburst. His crumpled uniform told the rest.

* * *

Across the universe, two things were legendary—the stupidity of humans, and the hunger of the shape-shifting, planet-hopping Grynks. Ever since those flights with monkeys and dogs, the Earthlings had been the butt of jokes across the galaxy.

The final Grynk craft had been sent to gather information and to decide if the human race was worthwhile before a visit could be arranged. The Grynk crew were obliterated in an asteroid explosion in Deep Space. The final blobs were stranded on their barren planet.

Few intelligent beings in the galaxy thought of Earth’s population as anything but food. The first visit by the Grynks had occurred when massive creatures with long necks and long tails had roamed.

As life on Earth evolved, it had proven to prefer condemnation to communication. Yes, they were now smaller creatures, so it would take more to satisfy a Grynk’s hunger, but a feeding frenzy was underway.

Perhaps if a few of the human’s were resilient enough, they would learn to hide and survive. There was a chance a handful might be able to start again.

A slim chance.

The End

Selected from:

The Welcome: and other Sci-Fi Stories