S.W.A.T. (book 2 of the hexology in seven parts)
Chapter 4: Sinkholes in the Sun

Bob sat transfixed at his desk, as he advanced the picture, frame by frame on his screen. It had to be a hoax, but how had they done it. The links to the four mark seven Kensington probes, now orbiting the sun at roughly nine million miles; was encoded to military standard. The powers that be had seen to that. So there should be no way to fake the signal coming in to the satellite dish. Bob had personally traced the wire run down to the recorders. There was simply no way someone could insert an erroneous signal. So were the satellites malfunctioning? The tech guys in charge of those said no. That just left the impossible conclusion, and Bob was toying with that right now. That they were aliens, for no human craft could do that. The crafts were coming out of, and then going back in to the sun.

All the world’s powers were on high alert; with military spending going through the roof. But even the man in the street could see the plain fact. If we were witnessing extra terrestrials, who were capable of withstanding the sun’s fiery inferno, what could mankind throw at it that would make a mark? Like ants trying to attack a Sherman tank, the generals and world leaders ran round in metaphorical circles, as they tried to make sense of the new power in our solar system.

Of course there were many who embraced the news, ready to offer a hand of friendship. North Korea even claimed that the crafts were theirs. But so far, apart from the satellite proof, no other real evidence had come to light. If any other agency’s had spotted the craft, they had kept quiet about it. After the ship, for want of a better word, got a certain distance from the intense heat of our star, it seemed to vanish.

And that was what Bob was working on now, with all his video enhancement equipment. The craft must be a thousand miles across, so how can they just vanish like that? One fact they had gathered; was that they always exited and returned to sunspots. Thanks to pioneers such as Galileo and Carrington, and the others that came after; the craft could be pin pointed down to a specific type of spot. They always exited from a positive pole spot, and dove back in to the sun through a negative one. Usually it was not even the same pair.

Then Bob had it; just the frame he was looking for. Just like a bubble bursting; the massive sphere pulled back across the picture. And he saw it, like a stone inside a galactic peach. It was only a few pixels, but Bob had found it. If only he could enhance the picture more.

There was a knock at the door, and distractedly Bob called out, “Come in it’s not locked.” Light streamed in for a brief moment. Then back in the subdued light of his office, he was again drawn away from the screen by the stranger’s question. “Doctor Robert Fleming?” “Yes”, came Bob’s absent-minded reply. “Would you like to see an enhanced view of that space craft?” It took a full second for this question to sink in. Then Bob turned to see a tall thin, suited man; who was holding a picture out for him to see. Bob stared at it; there were the frame numbers. And when he screwed his eyes up to blur the image. It did look like the pixels on the screen now behind him, but the image on the paper was crystal clear.

“So it is a space craft” Bob said to himself. Then with all of his attention on the stranger Bob demanded, “Where did you get this? I’ve only got this far with my data.” He motioned the screen with his thumb. The stranger smiled, “let’s just say I have accesses to powerful computers.” Then pocketing the photo, the stranger made his introductions. “My name is doctor Jeremy Dolesworth, of the advanced search for alien life and technology; or ASFALT for short. And I would like you to join our team. In trying to make first contact with these beings from another world.”

A little stunned by this strange intrusion in to his life, Bob leaned back and considered the proposal. “So you can mount an expedition to meet these beings?” Doctor Dolesworth shook his head. “Sadly not, but I hope to send a probe to attract their attention.” Bob posed his next question carefully. “You don’t think that these beings are hostile?” A satisfied smile came over Dolesworth face. “No, if they wanted to attack us. I’m sure they would have come beyond the orbit of Mercury, at least to scout out the area.” Surprised by this news Bob continued. “How have you been tracking the crafts?” But all he got for reply was a polite, “If you want the answer to that, you will have join our little group.” Thrusting out his hand Bob replied, “with pleasure.”

Bob thought the transition from doctor Fleming’s office, to his new place of work, went surprisingly smooth. Dolesworth had a way of smoothing out every situation. Bob’s superiors had suddenly been mysteriously glad to be rid of him. So he soon put the last of his personal effects, in the back of the van marked road works. “A little pun on our name”, doctor Dolesworth had explained. “And also a bit of a diversion for any prying eyes.” Sat next to his new boss, Bob was driven to what looked like the middle of no ware.

Apart from a low squat building, and a security fence, there was little but desert as far as the eye could see. Stepping out Bob had a momentary pang of regret; unsure this was a good move. “In here”, Doctor Dolesworth motioned to the structure. “The driver will take care of your things.” Bob went over to the building, and pushed open the double doors. He was surprised to replace the building empty, except for a freight elevator stood in the middle of it. “We replace security is our best policy”, dolesworth informed Bob. Then as they entered the lift, Bob noticed there were no buttons. “Doctor Dolesworth access code 5,4,3,2,1.” Dolesworth called out. A female voice answered him. “Voice recognition confirmed.” Then the lift sprang in to life, and the two men descended.

After a full minute the lift ground to a halt, and the door slid open. “Welcome to ASFALT.” Doctor Dolesworth motioned Bob out of the lift. They were on some sort of factory floor. In the middle of which sat a space probe. “Our greeting card”, indicated Doctor Dolesworth. Then he pointed other sections scattered around the walls. “There is the video enhancement unit; that produced our excellent pictures of the alien craft. And here is the real time space object tracker, which compiles data from all of Earth’s satellites’ and observatories. That’s how we know they’ve not come out past Mercury. It’s funny, but it’s almost as if they didn’t know we were here.” “And what’s that?” asked Bob pointing at a port-a-cabin at the far end. “That’s the canteen.” Doctor Dolesworth looked at his watch. “It’s eleven, most of the team will be on a tea break. Come and meet our happy band.”

He strode off towards the far end of the room, with Bob in tow. As he followed, Bob glanced about at the other departments, which were scattered around the walls. One proclaimed to be a language translation section; another was a hostile intent analysis unit. There was a short balding man, intent on a map of the Earth on the wall. He nodded to Bob as he passed, and Bob returned the greeting. When Bob entered the canteen, Doctor Dolesworth was already chatting to a woman who was sat with a mug of coffee in her hand. She glanced at Bob as he came over, and then she stood up. “You liked my photograph Doctor Fleming?” She held out her hand, which Bob shook. “I’m Professor Nadia Woolich. Tinkering about with pictures has always been a hobby of mine, but my real line of work is rocket propulsion. So I help Doctor Roberts over there with his probe mainly.” She indicated a youth who only looked about seventeen. Doctor Roberts was mulling over a safety pin, but he looked up when he heard his name, and he came over to join the group. “So you must be Doctor Fleming”, he held out his hand. “Please call me Bob”, and they vigorously shook hands.

Just then the door swung open, and the short man Bob saw earlier came in. “Doctor Dolesworth, can I have a word with you” the balding man boomed out. Then he noticed Bob, and came over to greet him. “Doctor Sam Boomslang, pleased to meet you Doctor Fleming.” He pounded Bob’s hand between his own, and firmly shook it. Then turning to Doctor Dolesworth he continued. “I’ve got those telemetry figures when you’re ready.” With that he stormed off again, leaving Bob feeling like he was in the calm after the storm. Doctor Dolesworth explained. “General Boomslang is our one concession to the government. He thinks we should get the probe to approach any alien craft from the direction of Venus. Sam thinks they would be fooled in to attacking there if they proved hostile.” “As if any species intelligent enough to invent technology to withstand the twenty million degrees centigrade, on the sun’s surface. Not to mention break free of a gravitational force of twenty eight times greater than that on Earth, could be fooled by such a simple ruse.”

This new information came from the tall Indian man, which Bob had not noticed before. As the man had been sat on the floor. But now he stood up, the man clearly towered over the rest of the group. He greeted Bob “Doctor Rashid Mombala, linguistics expert.” “Doctor Mombala can speak twenty-seven languages fluently, two of them computer based.” Cut in Doctor Dolesworth. “Twenty-eight if you include Glaswegian.” Corrected Doctor Mombala. “So who is the tracking expert?” asked Bob. “That will be me.” Admitted Doctor Dolesworth. “And now if you will accompany me. I need to pick your brain in that area.” Then he led Bob out.

“The main problem, apart from building a craft that could withstand the harsh environment, near enough to the Sun to attract the attention of these beings from another world. Is to construct a device that could deliver our message of friendship, and receive an intelligible reply. This is where you come in”, Doctor Dolesworth informed Bob. “The probe will be utilizing the Kensington satellites, as a sort of relay station for the signal.”

Doctor Mombala had set up an array of signals and responses, designed to guide an intelligent life through the complex tangle of speech, and cultural differences that must separate us from them. “It is capable of learning from the interchange, and to adapt itself for a better understanding.” Doctor Mombala explained to Bob on one of their tea breaks. “And my transmitting and receiving devices need to interface with Rashid’s algorithms” continued Doctor Roberts. “After which we need to get the aliens response back to Earth, via your Kensington probes.” The team soon had all the details worked out, and the probe was ready for shipping to Cape Canaveral. Once there, a Delta 3 rocket would send it on its way.

The tension in the control room was thick enough to cut with a knife. The team was gathered round the monitors, which tracked the position and state of Welcome One. The probe was now leaving the atmosphere in a Delta 3 rocket. “Payload released” came the message over the radio from U.S. STRATCOM. Doctor Dolesworth motioned Doctor Woolich. “Set trajectory for Venus orbit.” She pressed buttons, and then got a confirmation beep. “All on course Dr. Dolesworth” reported Doctor Woolich.

The team as a whole breathed a sigh of relief, as the tiny craft set off on its way. Fifty-seven days later, Welcome One took up its position orbiting the second planet out from the Sun. And a round the clock monitoring began, of the strange phenomenon that started this whole business off. Sunspots were tracked for emerging craft. One day, two, a week passed, and then with a cry of “Eureka” Doctor Boomslang pointed out the huge sphere rising from the surface of the Sun. Doctor Roberts strode over and studied the screen. “No good man, Venus is too far away for us to reach it before they go back in. The longest they’ve stayed is a month.” So dejected at this false alarm, the team as a whole returned to the canteen for a hot drink, while Bob took over Doctor Boomslang’s watch.

Another week passed, and after another false alarm Doctor Dolesworth was getting so tense, that Doctor Mombala had to take him outside for a chat. “About how not to treat your team, who were working jolly hard.” As they came back in, Bob shouted out “We’ve got one in range.” Doctor Dolesworth took a moment to recheck the facts, and then when Dr. Roberts gave him the all clear. He announced, “Let’s get this mission started.”

Doctor Woolich punched in the trajectory. Then Welcome One headed towards the massive ball, now pulling free from the gravitational attraction of the sun. The hours plodded by, as they monitored the tiny craft progress towards its goal. There was a brief break in the tense monitoring, when Dr. Mombala called out. “Its shed the outer shield, I can see the alien vessel now.” Then switching from the Kensington satellite’s cameras, to Welcome One’s. They saw the alien craft grow larger, until at last it filled the screen. Doctor Boomslang remarked “It sure is a big one, let’s just hope its not full of troops.” But Doctor Mombala cut him short. “Its no bigger than the others, although I do like the design. Its very sleek, and those markings look quite ethnic. I must study the tapes in detail later.”

The camera was now showing a hatch, which suddenly opened. The team leaned in as one, while the probe was sucked inside this craft from beyond our Solar system. There seemed to be some coloured lights playing on the screen. Doctor Roberts ventured, “They must be scanning the probe to see if it is hostile.” Then as quickly as it had started, the lights stopped. Finally Welcome One was drawn through another hatch, into the interior of the vessel. It was in a plain white room, with no discernable features.

A being came into view of Welcome One’s camera. In auto response to this stimulus, the tiny craft immediately began its task. The being stood patently for Welcome one to pause, then in perfect English is said. “No thank you, we don’t want any. We are just passing through, good day.” And with that Welcome one was ejected back out into space. It got a good view of the alien craft, as it reenergized its shield. And headed back into the Sun.