The Probe
Image by JCK5D from PixabayThe wind howled incessantly through the valley
from the moment they entered atmo. According to the ship’s instruments, just before the crash, the crosswinds were on the order of 210 kph, but that wasn’t the worst part. The temperature was a constant 38 Kelvin.
“Our viro-suits will only last two hours at this temperature!”
Raynard yelled above the wind.
Lieutenant Schiffer was the highest-ranking survivor. She
wasn’t used to decisions bigger than duty assignments and requisition orders, but
her path was clear on this one. The probe went off because it found active
technology. The ship was too damaged to repair; their only hope was that the probe
found something that could rescue them. “We press on!”
They crested the ridge, coming down in the valley with the
probe. The white beacon of the probe lit their way across the flatland. An
alien pedestal stood just beyond, the technology that set it off.
The squad gathered around, mindful of the time left in their
viro-suits. In the center of the pedestal was a recessed irregular shape. It
looked like a palm print, but of some alien hand with three thumbs of varying
length and seven fingers.
“What do I do?” Schiffer asked, standing in front of it.
“What else can you do?” Raynard said.
Schiffer placed her hand in the print. The pedestal lit up,
and a wave pulsed out in every direction. The ice evaporated and trees shot up
out of the ground. Birdsong filled the air and butterflies flitted everywhere.
Schiffer took off her helmet. Breathable air, a pleasant twenty-one
Celsius. “Simulation?”
Raynard read his instrument. “No. Terraformation. The pedestal
recreates the ideal environment for whatever places it’s palm here.”
Schiffer looked around as the others removed their helmets. “What
kind of creature put its hand here last?”
~~~~~~~~~~
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