No sooner than the Colonel had paused to consider this curiosity, he found himself suddenly disturbed by the incessant beeping of the Mem-maker's termination sequence. "Uhhhh...mmm...Fell asleep... " Bridges mumbled as he realigned the media helmet. Gaining his composure, he once again tilted toward the Mem-maker speaking distinctly, if uncharacteristially slowly into the hard cold plastic machine. "October 13, 3PM. Please begin visual." Repositioning himself, he blinked hard in an attempted effort to fully awaken without the inconvenience of evacuating the recliner, and removing the helmet from his heavy head.
Glancing at his watch, he noticed that 3 hours had passed. "Good thing the preset wasn't longer" he thought to himself as he shook his head and stretched his arms. Falling asleep in the mem maker always left him with a strange feeling - a sense of confusion as to what had been dream and what had been real. Not that it really mattered much this time. For there was nothing significant to glean from his 10/13 visuals.
"Minutes, FORWARD, 30...7...3, BACK, 2. Seconds, FORWARD, 20...10...Pause. (Why was he doing this?) Milliseconds, FORWARD, 500...150...100, BACK, 50...20...Pause." It was no use. Hanson had executed the data download flawlessly. There was absolutely no indication whatsoever of anybody smuggling anything onto the premises (as if their rigorous security procedures would allow it to happen.) Nobody had visible cuts on their fingers or elbows. Besides, their DNA had all been checked and none were a match to the sample anyway. As a matter of fact, no employee of the entire International Aeronautics and Exploration Commission, past or present was a match. Not only that...Bridges had also checked every government and financial employee since the turn of the century. None had matched the sample. None even close.
"Stop visual." Before placing the data lens back in his left eye, he checked its free space. Only 2 bill-gig left - hardly enough for another 12 hours. Rather than risk lost data, he simply opted to insert a new disc.
"Store data disk - logical and physical. C, 10144." Removing the helmet, he carefully positioned the new disc in his left eye and stood to leave the Mem-room. It was past 6AM. A walk would do him good. Some nourishment certainly would. Yes. A quick clean routine was also in order. And so he set himself about the routine tasks of daily existance, those mundane responsibilities of kings and paupers alike... yes, even of AEC officers! At times like these, they were a welcome respite from the endless hours of agonizing research and self-questioning.
Soon he would have to address the board again. As little as he liked it, there was nothing new to report. Three short years from retirement and full pension and now (of all times), this little vial, this smallest amount of blood had him stumped - stupefied. He held it in his hand, eyeing it as he would a wily old adversary.
If only it were a crafty veteran politician. You don't remain in active service 37 years without becoming adept at those games. If only he could pin it on a disgruntled employee. God knows how many of their schemes he had foiled in his long illustrious carreer. But this? He had no explanation...none other than the obvious - which was, of course, too incredible for the AEC to accept. But what other explanation can one possibly give for an unmanned probe discovering blood - human blood - on a planet millions of miles from earth?
There had been a time long ago when his romantic soul would have leapt at the prospect of intelligent life elsewhere. But decades of fruitless probe after fruitless probe had long since quelled the imagination of all but the most creative of unsettled souls. Yes, there had been the occasional microscopic building block of the needed materials for simple lifelike organisms. But never anything like this! Blood - human blood - in the center of a single square meter of evolutionary activity - on an otherwise barren planet! They would simply have to postpone any plans of exploration for precious materials until the issue could be properly resolved.
This blood! The smallest amount - discovered right in the middle of an inexplicable yet undeniable square meter of evolutionary frenzy! Where did it come from? How did it get there? What strange sequence of events had preceded it? His staff of chemists, physicists, logicians - everyone of them was working overtime on the problem - to no avail.
The delay was costing a lot of money. More importantly, the AEC had precious little prestige to waste on a public relations debacle of this magnitute. Colonel Bridges knew that if AEC hardware or personnel were somehow at fault for an error, the longer it took to discover it, the harder the hammer would fall, on him and his entire staff.
But what if it wasn't an error at all? The blood could not have been more than 2 minutes old when the probe took the sample. And yet the probe sensors indicated no mammal life whatsoever on the barren planet. It didn't add up, but then again, maybe the AEC had become too smug over the last few decades. How long had it been since they had discovered anything that "didn't add up?" He momentarily strained his memory before returning his attention to the crisis at hand.
Time travel? Advanced transport mechanisms? As he splashed water on his face, these unfounded speculations sounded much more absurd than the wondrous prospect of new life mystically budding on a barren planet so very far away from earth. The truth was, nobody - not he nor anyone else - had anything to offer other than speculation as to where the blood came from, and what it meant. To the joy of the tabloid press and the consternation of the AEC, the only explanation the mighty Colonel could offer was that the blood, indeed, was real and by all present indications was indeed out there on that far away, yet to be named planet. If preliminary findings were not catastrophically flawed, new life was in fact springing forth in a 1.5 meter radius surrounding the vital fluid, progressing at a previously unthinkable pace of evolutionary explosion. More probes, of course, would need to be sent before drawing any definitive conclusions...
Continue on to...the 3rd - and final - chapter of "Blood beyond the farthest star...". HERE NOW!
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