Now I remembered all the facts Doyle told us back then. When Planet First found intelligent aliens with their own technology, Alien Contact programme would activate. Military plans would swing into action, reallocating Military personnel and resources. Civilians on a constantly updated list of experts would get emergency mails calling them in for instant duty under Alien Contact emergency powers. Alien Contact had absolute authority over everything and everyone, since encountering an advanced alien species would either be the greatest opportunity in history, or the greatest ever threat to the survival of humanity.
Doyle’s monotonous voice had actually managed to make something that dramatic sound boring. Now Fian and I were hurrying across Africa Transit 3, with a trail of hover luggage chasing us, and those words kept repeating in my head. ‘The greatest ever threat to the survival of humanity.’
‘Oh … nuke it,’ I muttered, as we went past the information signs about inter-continental portal charges. ‘This is too nardle.’
‘I know.’ Fian stopped to look around. Earth is the only world with more than one inhabited continent, and he was still confused by Transits and inter-continental portalling.
‘This way,’ I said. ‘This Transit has a dedicated portal continuously open to Earth America, so we just walk through.’
The portal didn’t have time to finish reciting the words about Military traffic before we went through to Earth America, our hover bags following us a second later. I looked around at the location board. We were in America Transit 2. I grabbed Fian’s arm and towed him past the big signs saying ‘Normal Portal Charges Now Apply.’
‘Why can’t you all live on one continent?’ asked Fian. ‘It would save all this long distance portalling.’
‘After Exodus century, there weren’t enough people left to maintain the cities, so they abandoned them and gathered in nearby small communities. There seemed no point in shifting everyone to one continent later on. If humanity keeps expanding, the population of Earth will keep rising, and we’ll need more than one continent anyway.’
‘Oh, that’s true,’ said Fian. ‘One in a thousand of humanity will always need to live here.’
It was actually more than one in a thousand. A few parents of Handicapped kids came with them, and there were the norm kids of Handicapped parents as well. It was the triple ten. The risk of a Handicapped birth was one in ten with two Handicapped parents, one in a hundred with one Handicapped and one norm parent, one in a thousand with two norm parents. I was too embarrassed to discuss that with Fian. If he stuck with me, then our kids would have a one in a hundred risk.
We reached a local portal, Fian entered the code, and the portal started reciting to us. ‘Warning. Your destination is a restricted Military security zone.’ We exchanged nervous looks as it added the usual bit about Military traffic and our journey being free.
‘Could we go anywhere free?’ asked Fian. ‘Any sector?’
I nodded. ‘Military personnel get free travel to help them keep in touch with family and friends.’
‘I wish we could elope to Epsilon.’
‘I’d settle for just being able to portal to an Alpha sector world without dropping dead,’ I said, bitterly.
Fian sighed in sympathy, and counted the luggage to make sure we hadn’t lost any, while I checked the portal destination display. ‘New Mexico,’ I said. ‘I bet we’re going to White Sands. The ships from the solar arrays were trying to land there during the solar super storm.’
Fian nodded, and we both stared at the portal for a moment longer without moving. I finally pulled myself together. In Military families, the first child born into the family after someone’s death in action carries their name and honour on down through the generations. I was the Honour Child of my grandmother, Colonel Jarra Tell Morrath. Only months ago, my parents had also died on Planet First assignments to open up new worlds for humanity. I might only be an ape, but I was a Military Honour Child, the daughter and granddaughter of heroes, and I could face anything, even aliens.
‘We’d better do this.’
Fian nodded, and we stepped through the portal, popping out in a small room. A man in Military uniform got up from his chair and used a scanner on us. I saw he wore a Captain’s insignia.
‘Jarra Tell Morrath and Fian Andrej Eklund,’ he said, and handed each of us a Military forearm lookup. ‘Please go next door for your medical check and then to room 7 at the end of the corridor.’
‘Err, where are we?’ asked Fian, giving the object in his hand a puzzled look.
‘Military Base 79 Zulu,’ said the Captain.
I frowned. ‘But … there isn’t a Military base on Earth.’
‘There wasn’t two days ago, but there is now,’ he said. ‘There’s a map and other information on your lookups, but be advised we’re still building at high speed so the map isn’t always up to date.’
I headed out of the door with Fian trailing after me.
‘Why would they build a …?’
‘No idea,’ I said.
Next door was a large room containing four Military medical staff. Two of the staff pounced on us, waving scanners. I got an efficient looking young woman with short dark hair. Fian got an elderly man with a beard.
‘Jarra Tell Morrath,’ said the woman.
I was tempted to say I already knew my name, but this was no time to act like a silly kid. She was checking my identity because Alien Contact was classified code black.
I was dragged off into a cubicle and the woman checked my medical records. She scanned the leg that had suffered electrical burns during the Solar 5 rescue.
‘Perfect cellular regeneration,’ she said, and moved on to scanning the rest of me.
I hate medical scans. I didn’t like the compulsory sessions with my psychologist that Hospital Earth inflicted on me when I was a kid, because I didn’t like him trying to nose around inside my head. I didn’t like people nosing around inside my body either, and it always seemed as if doctors spent twice as long scanning me as anyone else.
‘You only have 90 per cent function in your left little finger,’ said the woman.
‘I know.’ I went around this every time some officious medic got a scanner on me. ‘Dig site accident when I was 15. They grew me a new finger, but the nerve connection wasn’t totally stable because my body was still developing.’
‘You’re 18 now. The finger could be removed and regrown to give perfect function.’
‘No thank you.’ I firmly defended my finger. ‘It works quite well enough.’
The woman put away her scanner. ‘Your annual inoculation and contraceptive shots are due for renewal in less than two months. We’d like to give you the inoculation shot early, combined with a few special ones. Do you want the contraceptive done as well to keep them in step?’
‘Yes please.’
The woman sprayed a few things into my arm, then lifted my top and held a strange looking object to my stomach. ‘There will be a barely perceptible pain.’
‘Wait a minute! What are you doing?’
‘Taking a genetic tissue sample,’ she said.
‘I don’t want … Ow!’ I glared at her. ‘That was definitely a perceptible pain.’
She glanced at the object and nodded. ‘All done. You’re free to go now.’