LOVE'S OTHER NAME
Inside Main Mission Winter's tried yet again to reach Commander Koenig's party.
"Eagle One, this is Alpha. Respond, please."
Carter grew impatient.
"They went down, Winters. We need to get going after them straight off."
Winters calmly opened communication to Emergency Services and, at the same time, activated the Red Alert alarm. Klaxons blared to life throughout the base.
"Search and rescue crew to standby positions. Rescue Eagle to Pad 4."
On the outskirts of Alpha a pair of spacesuit-wearing pilots with helmets in hand hurried through a crowded corridor en route to a travel tube. That tube carried them to a launch pad where a red-striped Rescue Eagle rose gently from the underground hanger to the launch pad.
Back in Main Mission Kano relayed the latest data: "Computer cannot locate the crash site. All telemetry has ceased."
"It'll be like looking for a needle in a damn haystack," Carter cracked while continuing to pace.
Winters reported, "Rescue Eagle will be ready to lift off in four minutes."
"Computer confirms," Kano read from a data slip. "The storm changed course and accelerated as soon as the Eagle entered the atmosphere."
While that revelation stunned the room, Sandra slowly rose from her work station and pointed toward the main viewer depicting the yellow and orange planet that was, mere moments ago, so full of promise.
"It is gone," she said.
"What?" Carter's voice carried more than a hint of annoyance. "What are you talking about?"
"The storm," she clarified. "The red storm, it is gone."
---
John Koenig sat straight in the pilot's seat after having been thrown forward into the console. The heavy-duty safety harness had kept him in place, a fact confirmed by the severe bruising he could feel on his shoulders.
Still, he had expected more than bruising. The way they had fallen from the sky had made him expect the worst. Then…then something had happened.
He took quick stock of the control panel in front of him; a panel illuminated only by the faintest of emergency lights.
"All systems off line," he said. "An electrical charge must've shut down the main operating systems."
Koenig found and depressed the 'systems reset' button near the main power controls to the side of his seat. The lights flickered and then came on, joined in short order by the beeps and buzzes of various Eagle systems.
"We're operational. Paul, did you—"
Koenig stopped. Paul had not survived the landing as well as the Commander. Morrow sat slumped in his seat, unconscious.
Koenig quickly undid his safety straps. A voice from the console called: "Eagle One, this is Main Mission, do you copy?"
Koenig paused and pushed a button to reply to the voice transmission.
"Main Mission, this is Eagle One, we copy."
"Commander," Winters' voice carried the slightest hint of relief. "What's your status?"
"Checking on that, Alpha. Stand by."
Koenig moved to Paul and instinctively checked first for a pulse. He found it.
"Paul? Can you hear me?"
Morrow did not respond.
The twin doors of the cockpit bulkhead slid open. Helena Russell staggered a step inside the command module with one hand touching a bump on her head.
"Helena! Are you okay?"
"Yes, I," she struggled. "Yes, I think so. What's wrong with Paul?"
"And everyone else?"
"Victor and Tanya are okay. We were strapped in. A lot of our gear is a mess but John, what about Paul?"
Koenig looked to his co-pilot then to Helena again.
"You're the doctor."
Koenig brushed past Helena. She, in turn, forgot her own wound and tended to the injured man.
In the passenger compartment John found Professor Bergman and Tanya Alexander slowly—groggily—retrieving tossed instruments and supplies.
"You two all right?"
"I suppose so, yes, in a manner of speaking. Say John, what happened?"
"Victor, someone really fouled up the radar data or our navigational instruments are in need of a major overhaul. We headed right into that storm."
"Nice bit of flying, John," Bergman said as he retrieved a small package from between two rows of seats. "I thought we were going to go in nose-first."
"I wish I could take credit," the Commander admitted. "I had no control. Just before we hit some kind of updraft cushioned our fall. Instead of a crash, a hard landing."
Tanya added, "I thought when that storm showed up we were done for."
Koenig and Victor glanced at each other and, simultaneously, their eyes widened.
"John…the storm!"
Both men grew quiet and listened, their eyes finding the ceiling but really trying to see something outside the ship.
They heard nothing. Victor hurried to one of the computer consoles and pushed a button. A radar image appeared on a monitor; a clear radar image.
"It's gone! John, the storm has dissipated."
Koenig scratched his chin and pondered, "How does a storm some one-hundred miles around suddenly disappear?"
Tanya said, "I am not one to look a gift horse in the mouth."
"Well I am," Koenig spoiled the mood. "Victor, double-check the data."
---
Carter refused to stop pacing until he heard the Commander's voice come over the speaker. Everyone at alpha's nerve center braced for the news.
"Alpha, this is Koenig. We're okay. A hard landing but the Eagle is operational."
Winters asked, "Injuries?"
"Nothing serious. Paul is unconscious. Dr. Russell is checking on him now."
Carter pushed his way to the transmitter. Winters—with no choice in the matter—leaned back to make room.
"Commander, I can have a medical team and another Eagle there in three hours. Just say the word."
"I'll let you know, Alan."
"Commander," Winters regained control of the communications gear, "our sensors are no longer showing the storm. It looks as if it just…faded…away after you got caught in it."
Alan Carter knew John Koenig well enough that he recognized the long pause before his reply as a sign of concern.
"Everything is calm here now. We're trying to figure it out ourselves. Have Kano and Sandra go over every ounce of sensor data."
"Sir," Winters asked the question on everyone's mind. "Does it look as good from there as it did from here?"
Again a long pause.
"We'll let you know as soon as we know. Eagle One, out."
---
Paul lay unconscious on an emergency stretcher on the floor of the passenger compartment. Helena knelt alongside him taking one more reading from her medical scanner.
"John, as far as I can tell there is nothing wrong with him. If I were to guess I'd say he passed out from the extreme g-force during the descent."
"Helena," John wagged a finger at her and then at the quiet form of his second-in-command, "that's not good enough. We have a limited amount of time to complete Phase One if we're going to execute Operation Exodus. But if one of my people is in danger—"
"He's not," she said, and then reconsidered. "At least I don't think so."
"Then we head back to Alpha," John said.
"No, wait, John," Helena looked at Paul again and sighed. The weight of her patient's health as well as the weight of hundreds of people on Alpha in search of a new home fell upon her shoulders. "If he doesn't come around in a little bit then we can make the return trip and get him to medical. But there's nothing I would be doing for him there that I'm not doing right now. We just have to wait and see if he comes around."
Koenig hung his head and considered. He had an obligation to Paul. He also had an obligation to the whole of Alpha.
"Okay then. We'll wait a little while. Victor and I will take a walk and see what we can find out."
Helena pointed out, "I have to scan plant life and soil. That's why I'm here."
"Stay near the Eagle. I don't want you more than two seconds away from Paul if his condition changes. Tanya…you remain here and start running your sensor sweeps with the onboard gear. Keep a close eye on Paul."
"Of course, Commander."
Koenig pulled his COM link from its holster. Winters' face appeared on the vid-screen.
"Winters, we're going to proceed with Phase One."
"And
Morrow?"
"He's still out, but Dr. Russell thinks he'll
come around soon. If he doesn't, we'll be heading back shortly. Begin
preliminary preparations for Phase Two. We'll contact you as soon as
we know more."
"Yes, Commander. And good luck, Commander."
Koenig returned the COM link to his belt and led Victor to the starboard side exit of the Eagle. Victor added a bag and a portable scanner to his gear while Koenig strapped on a side arm.
"Helena, stay close to the ship," he re-emphasized and then gave the unconscious Paul another good look. "I don't care how good this planet looks, I won't play games with Paul's life."
Tanya volunteered, "I will be with him the whole time, Commander."
Koenig turned about fast and opened the sliding door. A ray of warm sun—the warmth of two suns, in fact—came in through the open hatch. A field of knee-high green grass stretched before them with a variety of flowering shrubs around a tree line where light woodlands began. The sky overhead glimmered in yellow and blue with clouds of magnificent colors flying gracefully across the horizon.
"Amazing," Helena sighed from behind the two men. "Simply…amazing."
John reminded her, "I want your attention on Paul, Helena."
She scowled at him but the Commander did not relent.
"Stay close," he repeated. "Paul is your first priority."
John led the way down the stairs away from the passenger module. Victor turned to Helena and gave her a half-hearted smile; a sign of understanding her plight. Then he followed Koenig across the field.
Helena returned inside the ship for a moment and gave Paul another visual examination.
"I don't get it," she told Tanya. "Nothing appears to be wrong with him. He must have simply passed out during the descent."
"Do not worry, Dr. Russell," Tanya assured. "Go out into the sun and collect your specimens. I have work to do in here and will keep an eye on Paul."
Helena smiled at Tanya, touched her shoulder in an expression of thanks, and retrieved her analysis kit. A moment later she exited the Eagle. Tanya sat at the computer work station and activated the Eagles' onboard scanners. The invisible beams from those scanners reached up into the sky to try and unravel the secrets of Opal 4's atmosphere.
---
"You know, John, the fact that the storm dissipated could be a very good sign."
Koenig pushed through a low-hanging branch and worked his way among the trees. They found no paths. It seemed as if they were the first feet to tread that land, other than several small mammals scurrying for cover as they moved.
"Or a very bad one."
"No, now listen. When I first saw those storms on the view screen I was afraid they were something like the big red spot on Jupiter. That storm has raged for as long as human observations of Jupiter have been made."
"The storm that never stops."
"Indeed."
The two climbed a small rocky ledge. A tiny stream trickled nearby.
"Victor, you and I both know that storms that size usually aren't found on planets with stable atmospheres. This planet appears to have a stable atmosphere. So why are there two gigantic storms here?"
"Good question."
"And I've got a better question," John stopped and turned to face Victor. "Why did one of those storms just disappear the minute we came down here? Coincidence? I don't believe in those."
"Well John," Victor appeared ready to answer the question, but something caught his eye. Something ahead, just beyond the next line of trees. He changed the tone of his voice and in slow, deliberate words, said, "It could be the answers are just in front of us."
Koenig joined Victor and they exited the forest. In the distance, mountains rose to massive heights and wore peaks colored in frosty white snow. In the shadow of those mountains a wide open space that once belonged to a city.
Pillars with ornate scriptures carved therein; walkways made from marble-like stones; a bridge from skillfully crafted wood spanning a gentle river; panels of glass etched with slender figures; pottery baskets hanging from complex lattice work that might have held colorful flowers long ago.
All magnificent. Breathtaking. And all in ruins.
Weeds and wildflowers grew in cracks in the pavement; spindly vines smothered the pillars; rotting mush filled broken baskets; dunes of dirt and dust buried the remains of fallen towers.
Nothing remained whole. Only pieces…fragments of a once great city knocked flat and left to decay.
Victor stood still and quoted Shelley, "My name is Ozymandias, king of kings:
Look on my works, ye Mighty, and despair."
Koenig spoke in a hushed tone, "Victor…this is…incredible."
"Yes," Bergman turned off his philosophical side and focused on his scientific nature. Those who knew him best knew he tended to confuse the two. "Not good news, either."
The Commander understood.
"The storm. This place was flattened by the storms."
Victor answered not with words but with the nod of his head, at the same time raising the knuckle of his thumb to his mouth and gently tapping: a sign of deep thought.
---
The view screen at Main Mission zeroed in on the spiraling blue storm swirling across one of the planet's oceans.
"It is like a hurricane," Sandra noted. "But much prettier."
"Nothing pretty about a typhoon," Carter remarked. "We used to see some of those back home, on Earth, in my part of the world. Trust me, you don't want to get caught out in one of those things."
Kano said, "We can't expect it to be perfect. Even Earth isn't perfect."
"I'd settle for okay," Carter strolled over to one of the windows that offered a view of the moon surface with the planet Opal 4 hovering above the horizon. "What more can you ask for? A little sun, some ocean, and a place to settle down."
Kano told him, "How about two suns, for the price of one."
Carter smiled and pointed a finger at Kano.
"You've got yourself a deal."
"Settle down," Winters broke the good humor. "We have to wait for the Commander's report before we get ahead of ourselves."
"You are such a spoilsport," Sandra pouted.
"Sorry," he conceded. "But the last time I sat in this chair things got a little rough. Call me a pessimist."
In unison, Kano, Carter, and Sandra said, "Pessimist."
---
Koenig answered the tone form his COM link. It was Dr. Russell. Before she could speak he asked, "Any news on Paul?"
That caught her off guard.
"Well, no, I'll be going back to check on him in a minute. But John, I've run preliminary tests on the plants and trees around the clearing. So far, it all checks out. The soil is very fertile and I've seen signs of small animals, mainly marmots, and insect life."
He considered her report for a moment and then replied, "Continue your analysis. But I want an update on Paul in ten minutes."
"No word from Tanya so far, John."
John, a bit harshly, snapped, "Tanya isn't the medical officer."
Helena's eyes widened for a moment and a pang of guilt shot through the Commander. He knew his tendency to let his frustrations and concerns manifest in unhelpful ways.
Before she could disconnect he added, "I'm just worried about him."
That, she knew, came as close to an apology as she would ever hear from John Koenig. It served.
Helena flashed a smile on the video screen and assured, "I'll check on him in a moment and contact you."
The link ended. John looked around and spied Victor leaning over a slab of black rock that might have been a kind of granite.
"Well Victor?"
Professor Bergman surveyed the landscape again, as he had for several minutes although this time he used merely his eyes and not his portable scanner. First he told John the obvious.
"This was once a great city here. It was knocked flat. Most likely by one or both of those storms. But John, it must have been marvelous."
"That doesn't do me any good, Victor. We can't live here under the constant threat of something that powerful."
"You're missing the bigger picture," he scratched the side of his head—where a little of the hair he had left remained—and pointed out, "Whoever built this city had the time to make it. All this architecture and buildings did not spring up over night."
Koenig squinted his eyes and followed along: "So the storms weren't always raging on this planet. Whoever was here built these cities. Then the storms came along."
"Yes, indeed. Now here's something interesting to think about. Just on first glance I see the remains of some fairly complex building designs. Nothing huge, like skyscrapers, but complex nonetheless and all built with simple materials; no signs of composite metals or plastics; mainly stone and wood. To do this, the people who lived here must have had an advanced gasp of mathematics and engineering."
"Okay, so they were smart."
"Not just smart, John, but advanced. And a lot like us, I dare say."
To prove his point, Victor stooped and grabbed the remains of something that resembled stained glass. While half the image was missing, what remained depicted a bipedal, humanoid form in a kind of dance.
"Makes sense, of course," Bergman went on. "Similar gravity means similar height. Based on their craftsmanship I expect opposable thumbs and the doorways would accommodate a body structure such as ours. Of course in our journeys we have met many different kinds of sentient life, but the humanoid design appears to be the most common form, most likely for very practical reasons."
"Okay, so they were a lot like us. At least in appearance."
"I have seen nothing that resembles industry, but there are plots of land on the outskirts of town that might have been farms. If I were to venture a guess—only a guess at this point, mind you—I would say we are looking at an agrarian society. I see no signs of defensive structures or walls, so I will assume they were at peace with whomever their neighbors might have been. What I do see, however, is a great deal of emphasis on art and, well, beauty."
Koenig mused, "Like this planetary system itself. Full of color and design."
"Yes, how interesting is that?"
"Victor, based on what we can see here it's almost as if aesthetics were a critical part of their planning."
Victor strolled among the overturned walls and collapsed buildings where weeds and dunes of dirt now competed for what had been civilized land.
"These people indulged in the arts, John, and with great passion. I have seen bas-reliefs of lovers and fading paintings of the most romantic themes," he bent over and retrieved a slab of wood that offered an engraved image of what had to be a young man attempting to woo a woman. "Perhaps they evolved not along technological trees as we have, but with an emphasis on art, music, and poetry. I imagine that, to us, this type of a civilization might be nearly nirvana."
"That might be true, Victor. But it also means they were very much like us. Same themes and ideas; love, romance, passion. Maybe they took it to an extreme."
Victor nodded in agreement.
Koenig added, "But their art didn't save them when the storms came, did it?"
Victor answered by dropping the slab of wood. It landed with a dull thud and cast a puff of brown dirt into the air.
---
Tanya eyed the readouts on the Eagle's computer banks as they clattered and beeped away inside the passenger module. The side door that led to Opal 4 remained wide open allowing streaks of those marvelous twin suns to pour inside. She could hear Dr. Russell's footsteps as she made her way among the plants and other flora of the new world.
"Amazing," Tanya spoke to herself. "This atmosphere is free of all pollutants. No trace of artificial elements."
Her mind drifted to thoughts of a new world. A new life. Families.
On impulse, her eyes followed her mind's dreams and drifted from the computer monitors to the unconscious body of Paul Morrow, asleep on the stretcher. Except now his eyes had opened wide.
"Paul!" Tanya sprung from her chair and knelt next to him. "Can you hear me, Paul?"
He did not respond. Not to her. Not at first. Instead, his eyes blinked rapidly and surveyed the ceiling and walls of the passenger module, as if finding his bearings.
"We were so worried. I'll get Dr. Russell in here."
His hand grabbed her wrist. Hard. Her joy turned immediately to fear as she saw the expression of a stranger on Paul's face. His eyes narrow and sharp; his face red as a passion or anger radiated from his person as if his soul burned.
"I will have her. Nothing will stop me this time," he growled.
Despite his strength—a strength even greater than a man should have—Tanya managed to twist free from his grasp.
Outside, Dr. Russell walked toward the open starboard door of Eagle One hoping to get a status report on Paul Morrow before John called in again. She knew a lot of things played on the Commander's mind, ranging from the storm to Paul's injury. When John was in such a state he only grew more agitated when answers were not forthcoming and he spared no one the whip, not even her.
As she approached the ship she heard a commotion.
Suddenly Tanya stood at the door, her eyes wide open and her mouth gaping in what could only be fear.
"Help me! Dr. Russell..!"
She saw Paul grab her from behind, cutting off her escape, and throw her back into the compartment. The side door then slid shut and closed with an ominous thump.
Helena raised her COM link and tried to open the door, to no avail.
Her mind struggled to grasp the situation. Paul was awake, this was obvious. It was also obvious that he had scared Tanya and forcibly kept her from leaving the Eagle. That made no sense. It did not fit with his character.
The whine of Eagle engines spooling to life broke through her confusion.
"John," she activated her COM link. "We have an emergency here. Get back here right now, John. Right now."
She could not wait for his reply. The threat of take off forced her away from the Eagle toward the rim of tress surrounding the clearing. She reached it just as the thrusters fired, spewing dirt and rock into the air from beneath the undercarriage of the craft. The ship eased into the sky and swung about.
John—faster and younger than Victor—arrived at the clearing first. He stood with Helena and watched their Eagle fly off to the east.
