Interstellar Mission

Chapter One

Chapter One

35, 835 kilometers above the planet the humans called Concordia, a probe sat in geostationary orbit. The device was tiny, undetectable to all except the most sensitive astronomical scanners. Even then, the scanner operator would have to know exactly where to look in order to find it. The debris that remained from the battle for the planet was scattered throughout the immediate area of space, acting as the perfect camouflage for the spying device.

The probe focused on a small area of land on the largest continent on the planet’s surface. Covering approximately 2,184 square kilometers, the area encompassed a razed human settlement, a region where the native vegetation had been cleared, and a small forest. The forest was the point of greatest scrutiny.

Penetrating the forest canopy and a certain depth beneath the surface, the probe peered at a spot below the forest floor. It was here the humans had constructed a habitation.

The existence and placement of the site had been gleaned from disinfectors sent down to clean the human infestation from the prized world. Had this information not already existed within the probe’s data banks, the heat and carbon dioxide emitted by the concentrated numbers of humans were clear indications of the invaders’ presence. And, when the system’s star lit the planet’s surface in that place, the probe detected the movement of humans as they departed their subterranean dwelling.

For each revolution of the planet as it orbited its star, the pattern of movement was the same: in the daylight hours, the humans traveled to the cleared area and its neighboring lake. Then, just before that area of the planet turned away from the star and the line of darkness crossed it, the humans would return to their forest dwelling and disappear below ground.

During the time they spent at the secondary site, the humans tended to plants they were growing there. The plants were non-natives. The humans applied unidentified substances and, when precipitation in the area had been minimal, they also applied water from the lake. Always, they removed any native flora that grew in the space.

The probe monitored the size of the invasive population, its typical behaviors, and evidence of technological advancement. The data it had gleaned up until that point had been minimal. The humans’ numbers were small and the species’ activities limited. Had it been sentient, the probe would have been supremely bored. It was working at a level far below the amount of information its scanners, data banks, and transmitter could handle.

Had the probe’s creators been too optimistic when they had configured its data handling capabilities? Perhaps. The device’s construction had been hasty, a last-minute decision based on an abrupt change of plan.

Were the Scythians’ hopes for a successful human colonization of the planet too high? The alien planet thieves were primitive. Their colony ship had resembled a relic of the earliest eons of galactic exploration, like something out of an ancient historical file. It had been a miracle the humans had survived to reach their destination. Even their second ship, which had caught up to the first, had carried only a few ineffective weapons, and its engines had been slow. Only by a fluke had it defeated the scout ship.

In addition to the humans’ low level of development, further factors worked against the survival of the colony. The destruction of their first habitation had set them back significantly, no doubt. Then a second attack had been launched with the intention of finishing off the interlopers. The destruction that act had caused had probably pushed the colony to the limit of its existence.

Had the second attack not been called off, it would have entirely annihilated the humans. The disinfectors had never been known to fail. Even the unexpected arrival of the irritating aquatic beings, who for some unknown reason had decided to ally themselves with the primitives, would not have made any difference to the final result.

But then, at the last moment, another, more appealing, solution had been suggested, exactly at the moment the humans had foolishly crashed their vessel into the flagship. Perhaps it would be possible to turn the unanticipated appearance of the humans to the Scythians’ benefit. The decision to spare the invaders, temporarily, had been made.

Only two possible futures for the human colony lay ahead: it would either succeed or it would fail. Whichever result eventuated, the Scythians would win, in a fashion. As the fate of the humans played out all the watchers had to do was wait.

On their far-distant planet, the Scythians monitored the incoming data. The probe’s creators read the population estimates, studied the humans’ behavior, and tracked their development. The latter was pitiful. It was clear the colony was clinging to survival and all that would be required to finish it off would be the failure of the food supply the humans appeared to be growing. (How backward they were, to be actually living on organic matter! What a precarious system of existence.)

The probe had been programmed with various triggers. If the humans transferred to a new location, it would adjust its geostationary position accordingly. And if the creatures spread out across the globe so that constant surveillance from a single site was impossible, the probe would react.

Finally, when the required conditions were met, the Scythians would return to claim their prize.