---

“He’s very friendly,” Urle noted dryly as the two walked into Brooks’s study.

“It is very old, from what we know,” Brooks noted.  “Until now we’ve never encountered an intelligent species that lives longer than 500 years naturally.”

“You’re saying that it’s an issue of a different perspective,” the first mate said.

“Exactly.  There’s no record of humans having contact with their kind before, so this is new for them as well.”

“Records are very incomplete, even as late as the 22nd century,” Urle said.  “As for how old they are – how old are they, precisely?”

Brooks frowned.  “I don’t know, either.  Reports have suggested they saw much earlier eras of the world, long before humanity.  But that might be older generations – the ambassador, at least, has shared personal recollections back to the dawn of human agriculture.”

Urle made a soft whistle of amazement, that crackled coming through his vocabulator.  “So almost 15,000 years?  That’s a very long time.”

A chime came from the door.

“Enter,” Brooks said.

Cenz came in, his digital face showing a smile that the Captain thought managed to convey some tiredness as well.

“The Ambassador has been settled in,” the coral told them.

“Did he express any wishes?  Is there anything he requires?” Urle asked.

“Only that no one enter his room without his permission,” Cenz replied.

“That will have to be stuck to,” Brooks said.

“Do you think it’s hiding something?” Urle asked him.

“Yes,” Brooks answered bluntly.  “It’s hiding what they look like naturally.  But that is something we have to respect, even if we don’t understand it.”

Both of the officers nodded.

“I can’t imagine you let the proximity go to waste?” Urle asked the science officer.

The face on Cenz’s screen nodded.  “I did no active scans, as that would violate the Ambassador’s privacy.  But I recorded all the passive information I could.  I hope that was acceptable, Captain?”

“I have no issue with it so long as the Ambassador does not feel harassed.  What did you learn?”

“It’s not actually wearing clothes – those are simply extensions of itself.  They mimic natural fibers extremely well, though.  They gain a shine by mixing in light-scattering scales not dissimilar to those on a butterfly from Earth.”

“Odd,” Urle commented.  “How did it get them?”

“I presume it created them itself.  All exposed skin is just that – skin.  From what I could see, it actually has a human body.  The proper cells, bone structure, and even organs exist under there.  The hair is odd, though – they have a keratin shell but are alive and can move.”

“Make a report of all this and share it with myself, Doctor Y, and Urle,” Brooks ordered.  He glanced between the two officers.  “As important as this is, it is not our primary task right now.  We have to continue preparations to return to active duty.  Dismissed.”

---

Preparing to depart again after time at port was always a busy time for Ian Brooks.  There was the maintenance on nearly every part of the ship – that meant Beetle-Slugs were underfoot in every critical area – he had to make sure that all the absent-minded little aliens remembered to get off, and didn’t get entirely focused on increasing the efficiency of some random part.

He also had to make sure that each and every department got everything they needed – they’d not be coming back to port for a few months at least – and fill out all the paperwork.

It had been nine hours since Ambassador Kell had come aboard, and he’d been working long past when he should have stopped.

His body desired sleep, but he instead made his way to one of the ship’s lounges along the equatorial axis.  There were five such lounges on the ship, all of them around the equator.  This one was his favorite – Fortaleza.

It helped morale, he’d found, for him to make such a public appearance regularly, and today would be no different.  The shaking up of personnel and civilians at port and the new unique ambassador were all reasons that might cause concern on the ship.

And he took it very seriously that everyone on his ship knew that things were well.  The Craton was not merely a ship – she was a city in space with nearly 35,000 souls aboard.

While every such City-Ship elected a Mayor to represent its residents and to be their liaison to the command crew, to speak for them – he had been chosen by the people of the Craton to be Mayor in addition to being Captain.

It was a great honor, and he would not fail them, any more than he would fail his ship.

Entering Fortaleza, he walked among tables and booths, smiling at some people, nodding to others.  A Qlerning he knew loosely smiled at him – a rare action from their kind.

Reaching the great windows that looked out of the ship – the largest such windows, solely for the enjoyment of those aboard – he stared out at the megastructures that they were currently docked with.

To say that the great shipyards of Proxima Centauri were colossal was an understatement.  The automated construction systems could be building stations and capital ships in numbers that boggled the mind.  It was, by any definition, a megastructure.

Through a window on an extended tunnel connecting to the ship, he saw dozens of people moving through – some leaving, some coming aboard.

He’d approved the transfers, viewed the lists of new citizens.  He’d get to meet some soon enough.  That was traditionally the day after they’d left port, to allow them time to settle in.

He felt more than heard someone approaching.  He began to turn, an easy smile coming to his face.

It faltered, just slightly, as he saw who it was.  “Ambassador Kell, welcome,” he said.

---

< Part 3 | Part 5 >

---

“Attention!  Docking procedures completed.  Coupling is now initiating.  All personnel, wait for the all-clear to open vacuum hatches.”

Captain-Mayor Ian Brooks looked down the line of officers as the computer spoke to those assembled.  Not only the primary eleven were gathered, but several dozen other officers of the Craton.  It was only appropriate, as it was not every day that a new ambassador came on board.

Brooks assumed his spot at the head of the line, and stood with his hands behind his back.

It had been two months since the public news of the Shoggoths had broken, and the treaty between humanity and their kind had been established.  Curiosity had reached fever pitch, but there had been precious little information in that time.

Two weeks ago, he and his ship had been recalled to Proxima Centauri.

The first ambassador of Shoggoth kind would be joining his ship.

“Pressure established.  Shuttle Hatch Doors opening now.”

The aperture let out a hiss of gas as it parted.

A figure walked out at the fore – a tall and plain looking man.  His face was emotionless, both his eyes and his hair were a dark green.  The Shoggoth ambassador had arrived.

Brooks stepped forward.  “Greetings, Ambassador.  I am Captain Ian Brooks, and I welcome you aboard the Craton.”

The being looked at him.  The green eyes met his, and Brooks felt a ripple down his spine and sudden nausea.

With a force of will, he pushed it down.

The Shoggoth that looked like a human waited an uncomfortable period of time before replying.  “So you are.”

“I am told that you prefer to be called Kell,” the Captain said.  “Is this an acceptable moniker for you?”

“If it is necessary to have a word for me, then it is fine,” the ambassador replied.

Nodding and forcing a smile, Brooks gestured down the line of officers.

“Allow me to introduce you to the command staff of the Craton,” Brooks said.

The sense of unease continued to grow within him, and as he turned to look down the line, he realized it was not just him.  On the faces of his officers, if they could show it, they looked bothered, too.  Distress marked some faces; others looked as if they might be physically ill.

They all hid it as best they could; their professional composure was unbroken.  But the tension in their faces was unmistakable.

“My first officer-” he began, introducing Urle.

“This is not necessary,” the Shoggoth interrupted.  “I have already seen their files.  I know them well enough.”

“Ah, yes, but meeting them in person is somewhat different than-“

“Not for me,” Kell replied.  He pointedly moved his eyes down the line.  “I have seen their faces and I will not forget them.”  Raising his voice slightly, he continued.  “Have all of you seen me?  Is this a sufficient view?”

Brooks was shocked that it didn’t seem even the slightest sarcastic, but was asking a legitimate question.

All eyes turned to him, and Brooks gave a short nod.

“Yes, Ambassador, this is sufficient,” Urle said.

The Shoggoth turned to Brooks.  “I will go to my accommodations now.”

Brooks was finding it hard to concentrate.  There was something about the mere presence of Kell that was unnerving him more and more.

Doggedly, he fought down any reaction.  “Very well, Ambassador.  I will have you shown there immediately.”

“Sir,” Cenz’s vocabulator buzzed.  “If I may volunteer?”

Brooks felt a sense of relief.  “Very well.  Ambassador, this is- ah, right.  You are aware of who Cenz is.”

The coral being stepped up, moving swiftly despite the clunkiness of his water-filled suit.  “If you will follow me, Ambassador.”

Kell followed the science officer out of the room.

Brooks’s eyes went back over the officers.  Relief was palpable on their faces.

He felt it, too.  As soon as the Shoggoth was gone, all the tension had left the room.

“Return to your stations,” he ordered, and left as well.

---

< Part 2 | Part 4 >

---

Brooks had considered calling a meeting of all of his officers that night.  But ultimately, he decided to wait until morning.

Now, his ten department heads and Executive Commander were all eyeing him with interest.  They knew him well enough at this point to know that this was something serious, but none let their concern show.

Knowing their consternation, Brooks decided to come directly to the issue.

“I’ve been informed that a new intelligent species is in negotiations to join the Sapient Union.  As unlikely as this sounds, this intelligent species is from Earth.”

“With respects, Captain,” Doctor Y asked.  “How have your people never discovered another intelligent species on your world?”

“Trust me that it is a shock to us, Doctor,” Brooks replied.  “But a planet is a big place, evidently, and there are a lot of places beings could hide besides the surface.”

Brooks could understand why the alien AI could find that shocking; his kind did not even have a true homeworld, having been created in space by their parent species that had never been biologically capable of interstellar colonization.

Executive Commander Urle leaned forward.  Despite most of his face being hidden behind cybernetic augmentations, worry was evident in him.  “And why the secrecy?  As shocking as this may be, there seems no reason to hide it.”

“It is an unusual move,” Brooks agreed.  “But this species are different from anything else we’ve met before.”

“What are they called?  Do they have a name?” Cenz asked, the screen that attempted to show an appropriate human emotion failing to keep up with the buzzing curiosity of his many minds.  Emotions flickered across the screen, ranging from confusion to shock, as his many polyps tried to reach a consensus.

“They have informed us that they have a proper name – one we can pronounce.  They are called  Shoggoths.  Other relevant information has been dispersed to your systems.”

As the data was given to the officers, he saw their eyes unfocus as information was projected into their personal heads-up displays.

“Captain, this says that they average 15 metric tons in weight,” Doctor Y said.  “Again, how were these undiscovered before now?”

“If you keep reading, Doctor, you will see why.  Shoggoths can change shape at will – they are, apparently, fantastically skilled at this.  They are even capable of mimicking a human being well enough that their ambassador simply walked up to the First Minister on Earth and introduced itself.”

Now he saw the nervousness among his officers.  “So that’s why,” Urle said.  “Captain, do we have any method of recognizing a Shoggoth in human form?”

“As far as I am aware,” the Captain replied.  “No.  However, this is early information.  Their existence has not yet been publicly acknowledged.  The Shoggoths are . . . very private beings.  Which is likely why they have remained hidden until now.”

“There are no images of them,” Doctor Y noted.  “Do we have any?  I understand that proceedings are cautious and it is an early date.  But surely there is an image?”

Captain Brooks shook his head.  “As of yet, I have not been given any images of the Shoggoths.”

The doctor’s voice was calm.  “Distressing,” it simply said.

“I’d like everyone to look over this information over the course of the day.  News of the Shoggoths and the treaty are likely to be revealed next week.  I want you all prepared to field the questions that people will have – and to help them acclimate to the newest members of the Sapient Union.  Dismissed.”

The heads of departments all rose and shuffled out.  Brooks saw that Urle was dawdling, and when they were alone, he nodded to the man.  “Did you have something else, Urle?”

“Yes, Captain, but I do not believe you are free to answer my question.”

It was probably true.  But Brooks also was not going to keep the man from asking.  “What is the question?”

“What is so strange about these Shoggoths that requires complete secrecy?” Urle asked.

Captain Brooks looked at his first officer in silence.  He could not tell the man of Admiral Vandoss’s concern, or of his own.  Or the myriad bizarre details of their existence that did not seem to match their understanding of the universe itself.

“Return to the bridge,” he finally told Urle, not harshly.  “I shall join you there shortly.”

---

< Part 1 | Part 3 >

---

Other-Terrestrial

Episode 1

“Leviathan”

by Nolan Conrey

---

I remember when the world was young.

From the moment I was born I had looked at the sky.  In a pool of water my eyes had opened to view above an endless expanse of gray.

For millions of years I stared at that sky, hanging overhead.  Was that all there was to the world?  All there was for me to see?  Broken stones and deep water below, with shapeless gray clouds above?

Then, one day, the heavens opened.  The clouds of the age of hell gave way, and in their place the stars shone.

Beautiful, tiny, perfect lights that glittered and moved.  I watched them on their journeys for ages, seeing how each dot drifted in a way that made me feel there was so much more to them than I could ever imagine.

And I wondered what they were.

My creators would not deign to answer the questions of a slave.  But ever after, I trained an eye on the sky, still wondering.

After my creators were gone, there were none left to ask.

A billion years later, I still wondered.  Billions more, and I still had no answer.

I still wanted to know.

I still hope, one day, to go among those points of light and know them.

---

Admiral Vandoss woke me with a priority-one call.

Despite being 2,000 light years away and in the middle of the night, ship time, he called.  Snapping from sleep, I realized that if it had been anything routine, he’d have spoken to the watch officer instead.

It wasn’t cold, not on a ship – they always tended to run hot.  But I felt cold, like I had so often when I was young.

“Admiral,” I answered, taking far too long to pull on a robe and take the call.

His worry robbed his face of its normally tight professionalism.  He might be able to hide his fear  from others, but after years of service together I knew him too well.  It was good to see my former CO, no matter his concern, though we we were now separated by unthinkable distances.

“Ian, I have news.” He coughed, wiped his forehead.  ”It’s going to be all over the GalacNet soon; I wanted to tell you first.”

“Thank you, Admiral.  I appreciate that,” I said.  I meant it, but it was also a stock answer to buy my brain time to organize.  He knew me well – enough to tell how my tiredness affected me.  “Ian, this is just you and me, as men – no ranks.  I need your full attention!”

That startled me.  Vandoss had never ordered me to ignore rank before, even if he often called me by my first name, making this interstellar contact off-record made it clear: something major had happened – or was about to happen.

“What’s going on, Tem?” I asked, the startle catching my throat.

He hesitated, taking a breath, steepling and un-steepling his fingers.  “This is hard to explain, Ian.  We’ve uncovered a new species.”

“Brilliant,” I said.  “I feared we’d never find another.”  I knew it had to be intelligent; the discovery of some new analogue to bacteria, algae, or moss on some planet or moon was commonplace.  Intelligent life was scarce and precious, and while we had met aliens, they were counted in the low dozens across vast stretches of space.

“It’s on Earth,” Vandoss said.

I didn’t reply, staring. I couldn’t make sense of that statement.  It’s important but it didn’t merit this call. “They’ve visited Earth already?  Are we under threat?”

“They’re from Earth,” Vandoss said softly.  “They’re native. Terrestrial.”

“I don’t understand.  We’ve never seen- I mean, we would know-” my throat caught in my confusion.  My mind swam with thoughts of intelligent cetaceans, interconnected trees, dreamlike thundering clouds, but nothing added up.

“We didn’t,” Vandoss said, the finality in his words breaking through my visions, snapping my confusion.  “They’ve been here all along, Ian.”

My brain didn’t freeze up, no matter how much it wanted to.  “Hiding alongside us?  Under us? In the ocean?” I guessed.

The Admiral nodded.  “For millenia, in the deepest parts of the ocean.  They’re . . .  they’re not anything like us, Ian. Not at all.”

I saw true fear on the Admiral’s face, and for a moment dread welled up inside me.  My rank fell back on to my mind, and dispassionately, professionally, I worked the threat potential, the dread and the fear abated by my experience in the bizarre and in the faith of my crew, my community, and in the Union to which we belonged. The spool of fear tightened by anxiety unspun with careful consideration.

They couldn’t be a threat.  Even if something came up from below and took us entirely by surprise, there were trillions of humans in the Sol system alone.  There was no way we couldn’t overwhelm and defend ourselves against something that only inhabited one world.  And whatever these beings were, if they were intelligent, they had to know that.

“Define that, please.  Or better, do you have a picture of them?”

“No.  Cameras . . . don’t like them.  At least not in their true form.  They change shape, Ian, as easily as we take off a coat.  They can look like us – hell, when they approached the First Minister, they looked like his own aides.”

I took a long moment to let that sink in and frame that with my previous orderly thoughts.  “Have you . . . seen what they normally look like?”

The Admiral’s nod was slow.  He was pale, sweating, like a man who had been called upon to identify his own kin in a morgue.  I’d never seen him look so old, years flashed across his face.

The back of my neck felt suddenly full of pins.  “They’re … not like us at all, are they?” I asked.

“No, Ian,” he answered.  Something in him deflated, something in him was missing, he seemed no longer whole.

“They’re not.”

---

Part 2 >