Earth Unaware (The First Formic War 1)

Victor put on the goggles and stared at the blank screen. "Am I supposed to see something?"

"Not yet. First let me explain. I've set the Eye to notify me of any motion outside the ecliptic, even if it doesn't yet look like a collision. Motion there is more rare, but I've got a thing for cold comets. Before the sun heats them up and gives them a tail, I think they're pretty cool. I figure if I'm the first one to spot a new one, I can get it named after me. It's silly, I know."

"Not at all," said Victor. "Getting a comet named after you sounds pretty chevere."

He could hear the smile in her voice. "I think so, too." Then she was back to business. "So the Eye was looking outside the ecliptic, taking in some really clean data."

Clean data meant there had been relatively little space dust or other particles floating in the Eye's field of view. It meant the Eye could see way far out.

"Then the Eye detected motion and alerted me," said Edimar. "I called up a visual and got this."

An image of space appeared in Victor's goggles. It looked no different from any other view of space. "Am I supposed to see anything unusual?" he asked.

"The motion was here." Edimar drew on her tablet with her stylus, and a tiny circle appeared on the image of space. Then Edimar zoomed in until the tiny circle filled the display. Victor strained his eyes. "I still don't see anything."

"Neither did I. Which means whatever the Eye saw is in deep space. If it were close, we would be getting better visual resolution. And if it's way out there and the Eye detected its motion, then it must be moving insanely fast. The problem is, the Eye doesn't give me enough data to determine the object's trajectory. All I know is that there's fast motion. But the velocity decreases over time. It means the object is either changing velocity or direction, one or the other. Either it's slowing, or it's turning toward or away from us, making it appear to be slowing relative to us. Only neither one is very likely. I've run analyses based on a dozen different distances and possible directions of movement and the only thing that explains the data the Eye is giving me is deceleration."

"It's slowing down?" said Victor. "Natural objects in space don't slow down on their own, Mar."

"No, they don't. And when I say it's moving fast, Vico, I mean fast. Fifty percent of lightspeed fast. And that's its spee

d now, after continuing to decelerate. Interstellar objects don't go that fast, they don't bend without a gravity well, and they don't decelerate. So tell me, am I going to get teased for this?"

"I don't think so," said Victor.

"I should forget about it?"

"Edimar, I think we're looking at a spacecraft."

"Nothing goes that fast."

"Nothing made by humans."

At his words, Edimar visibly relaxed and a silly grin came to her face. "So I'm not crazy to think we've got us an alien starship? A near-lightspeed ship coming into our system and slowing down?"

"Either it's a lightspeed ship or somebody repealed a whole bunch of laws of physics. And either it's alien or some corporation or government is experimenting with a technology so advanced it will make them masters of the universe."

"So I should call a grown-up."

"You should call the Council. Or I will. This isn't just important, it's so important that they've got to make decisions about it right away."

"What's the hurry?"

"Because it might very well be headed for Earth."

CHAPTER 2

Lem

The Makarhu wasn't built to be a science vessel, and it certainly wasn't built for war. It was a mining ship, property of Juke Limited, the largest space-mining corporation in the solar system. But Lem Jukes--mercifully short for Lemminkainen Joukahainen, heir to the Juke Limited fortune and captain of the ship--was prepared to use the Makarhu for any purpose if it meant turning a failing mission into what the Board of Directors would consider a success.

It was an hour after sleep-shift had ended, and Lem was floating weightless in the observation room, waiting for an asteroid to explode. The asteroid was a small thing, a "pebble" no bigger than Lem himself, lazily moving through space half a kilometer from the ship. If not for the ship's laser lights dotting the asteroid's surface and illuminating it, it would have been completely invisible against the backdrop of space, even with the help of the special scope glasses Lem was wearing.

Lem lowered the glasses and looked out the window to his right. The cargo bay doors were open, and the gravity laser was in position, pointing out into space at the pebble in the sky. Lem couldn't see the engineers from his position, but he knew they were down in the lab adjacent to the cargo bay, prepping the laser for the test.

According to the Juke research team that developed it, the gravity laser--or glaser as they had come to call it--was supposed to be the future of the space-mining industry, a revolutionary way to break surface rock and dig deep through the toughest asteroids. It was designed to shape gravity in much the same way a laser shaped light, though since gravity was not reflective, it worked on very different principles; understanding them was way below Lem's pay grade. The company had spent billions of credits to build this prototype, and quite a bit more to keep it a secret. Lem's job was simply to oversee the field tests. A cakewalk of a mission.

That is, if the gravity laser would ever turn on. It was the first deep-space trial, so Lem expected the delays born of extreme caution. But it was beginning to seem as if something was actually seriously wrong with the device and everyone was afraid to tell him.