Atmosphere. The terraformers had yet to render it completely breathable, but the sight alone of blue sky was paradise after weeks spent slipping through hard vacuum. Vallahan sucked the stale oxygen of her suit deep into her lungs and took a look around. 

For a fresh colony, only a few years past the habitable stage, Manna was surprisingly lush. Shrubs and grasses covered the yellow earth, and the colonists had even managed to get a number of trees to take to the soil. No wonder the companies allowed the bidding on this one to climb so high, thought Vallahan. But, despite the planet’s riches, all that remained of the buildings dotting the landscape were charred, empty shells. To her, they looked like the discarded husks of a swarm of giant locusts.

“Damn! You skinny, girl!” said one of the soldiers over the intercom as he came up behind her. “I don’t think my six year-old niece could squeeze into that get-up.”

Vallahan turned and looked down at him. Although he was tucked into hydraulic armor, and she was wearing only a basic flight suit, she was a full inch taller. “That’s because I’m third generation Benten. Zero point eighty-four G. Judging by your stature, I’m guessing you’re from a one-point-three-G world at least. Maybe Naju?”

“Scientists,” the soldier snorted. “You all born with a stick up your ass?”

Commander Sourav fixed the soldier with a cold stare. A top-rate android, straight out of the military labs, Sourav needed no flight suit; or armor, for that matter. “Private, you do know that’s Dr. Vallahan you’re talking to. Galaxy’s best evolutionary biologist. She and Ambassador Earnst are second-in-command during this mission. So treat her with respect from now on, or I will find the biggest stick this rock has to offer and turn you into my own personal stick-puppet.”

The soldier gave a stiff salute, then fell back to help unload the equipment from the skyhook. Sourav began to survey the environment, glancing from time to time at a handheld digital map.

While she waited for the others to get organized, Vallahan squatted down to examine a clump of shrubs. She took a spade out of her side pouch and carefully extracted one of the plants from the undernourished soil. As she studied its root structure, she almost failed to notice a shadow had fallen over her. Earnst was approaching from behind. His bristly beard was barely contained within the confines of his helmet.

“Find anything interesting?” he asked. Vallahan could tell by the sound of his voice that he had his intercom set to proximity mode, so their chatter wouldn’t disturb the soldiers’ communications.

“Just your garden variety juniperus squamata,” she said. “Its growth is a bit stunted, but that’s to be expected. Too early to observe any abnormal mutations.”

“Astonishing, though, isn’t it?” said Earnst, gazing out over the dry plains.

At first Vallahan thought he meant the shrubs. Then she remembered the objective of their mission. “That’s right,” she said. “Considering your line of work, you must find this all very exciting.”

“You don’t?” he asked, looking down at her. “How can anyone not be filled with wonder at the very thought… I mean, aren’t you dying to see them?”

“Well, my research has so far involved only the off-world adaptations of Earth-based species. I don’t really know how I’m supposed to be of any use on this mission.” Vallahan stood, and without understanding why, she started to laugh. “Yeah, I am dying to see them,” she admitted. “But I wish they were a little more friendly.”

“I won’t be of any use either if it turns out they’re not intelligent.”

Vallahan faced him. “How will you tell?”

Before Earnst could come up with an answer, Sourav’s voice cut in on the universal channel. “Is everyone reading me? I want you to split into teams of three and search these buildings. Report back here in twenty minutes. Sooner, if you find anything.”

“That won’t be necessary, Commander,” said Vallahan, walking up to Sourav under the heavy stares of the entire patrol.

“Explain,” Sourav snapped, not quite able to disguise the indignation in his voice.

Vallahan didn’t seem to notice. “Whatever these indigenous life forms eat, it’s nothing on the surface. Before the seeder drones arrived, the land was barren. I’m guessing there’s a whole biosphere deep underground, or under the sea. We should start by looking there.”

“Under the sea?” fumed Sourav. “We’re not equipped for reconnaissance in the water!”

“Tell it to the men upstairs. They allegedly read my report.”

The commander sighed. “All right, then what do you think the ETs were doing on the surface in the first place? They certainly caused enough damage. Enough to make every last settler pack up and leave before we could even get here.”

“As I stated in my report, I imagine the atmospheric terraforming disturbed the life forms’ habitat somehow. As to why they attacked the colonists, I can’t account for alien temperament. That’s the ambassador’s job.”

“This is mankind’s first encounter with extraterrestrials,” Earnst said placatingly. “My research is purely theoretical.” He came to stand by Vallahan’s side and gave her a sidewise glance. “However, I agree with Dr. Vallahan. The ETs’ native habitat is clearly somewhere below the surface, where they would have escaped detection. They might have panicked when their ecosystem shifted, leading to the attacks. Or, if they’re capable of advanced reasoning, they might have interpreted our colonization as an act of war.”

* * *

Soon after Manna’s one distant star had set below the plateaus, the soldiers discovered the first cave. It was a small chute penetrating the ground at roughly thirty degrees, and there were many more like it scattered throughout the rocky plains. The diameter of each was just wider than a military-issue hydraulic suit—a happy coincidence that saved the re-con team from wasting any explosives. Though, had they wanted to, they could have easily blown out a crater one hundred meters deep.

Sourav was the first to take the plunge. The chute was rifled, as if excavated by machine. About twenty meters down it joined a larger tunnel, which ran parallel to the surface. Sourav lowered himself into the tunnel as far as his arms could extend, then dropped the rest of the distance, landing on a heap of sediment below. As his mechanical eyes automatically compensated for the darkness, he found the tunnel was perfectly circular. The walls appeared to be coated with a layer of smooth clay.

“Topside, you’re clear,” Sourav said over the intercom. 

One by one, the soldiers began to clamber down the chute. Vallahan and Earnst had to be lowered into the tunnel.

With a single, sharp gesture, the commander flagged down a soldier carrying the latest in radar technology strapped to his back. “Let’s take a GPR from this point, here,” he said. “See how deep this installation goes.”

Meanwhile, Vallahan was already lost in thought, running her gloved fingers along the surface of the tunnel.

“Guess I’ll be of some use after all,” said Earnst.

Vallahan turned to face him. The beam from her flashlight accented his craggy features. “What do you mean?” she asked.

The ambassador raised his hands to the ceiling, emphasizing the magnificence of their surroundings. “Only a race of intelligent architects with access to some rather sophisticated tools could have built this place. The openings on the surface are still intact—no erosion—so that means they must not be abandoned.”

“And yet,” added Vallahan, “a colony of ants, each with a brain weighing only one-hundredth of a gram, builds a vast underground network for their nest. Spider webs have the tensile strength of steel. Termites have mastered air conditioning. Even plants pulled off plumbing and solar energy.”

“Point taken.” Earnst dropped his arms and doffed an imaginary hat. “Maybe I should brush up on my ‘Termitese.’”

Laughing, Vallahan said, “Which brings me to another point. Even if they are intelligent, how exactly do you intend to talk to these creatures, when we find them?”

“It’s a shotgun gambit. Thanks to an implant in my brain, I’m versed in every language known to man; dead, living, and invented. That includes Morse code, sign language, even semaphore. I can produce and hear sounds at frequencies both above and below human levels of perception, and I’ve been trained to recognize micro-expressions in a number of animal species.”

“Micro-expressions?”

“A twitch of the eyebrow, a slight pout of the lower lip… people reveal more than they think. For instance, at the moment I can see you’re regretting bringing the subject up in the first place, on account of what a massive bore I am.”

“Impressive. Remind me never to try lying to an interstellar diplomat.”

Earnst smiled and wagged a congenial finger at her. “I like that. But officially I’m a ‘first-contact specialist.’ Anyway, no one expects us to carry on a conversation with an alien species. The aim is simply to show we’re attempting to communicate, in whatever medium necessary.”

A flurry of beeps came from the radar equipment installed on the ground. The operator stood and saluted the commander. “Goes real deep, sir. Some interference—image is a little loose—but definitely extends below two thousand meters, sir.”

Sourav leaned with one arm on the device and scanned the display screen. The data were automatically downloaded into his digital brain. He turned to Vallahan and Earnst. “Take a look at this. It’s like an ant farm under here.”

* * *

Two hours’ clambering through the tunnels brought them to a large, empty bowl of a room. Here the construction was rougher and the symmetry of the earlier passages began to break down, as if the alien workers had grown careless at that point. Irregular bumps and depressions populated the floor, along with small hills of sand and rocks.

Earnst selected one of the sturdier hills and leaned back against it. He had been wondering when Sourav would finally allow them to rest. Turning his head and fumbling around inside his helmet for a few frustrating seconds, he finally found his food tube and sucked tasteless liquid protein into his mouth. Man, he thought, was not supposed to eat and drink like a gerbil. But it was the only way to do so without risking exposure to the planet’s poisonous atmosphere.

As he watched the soldiers going about their business—checking their firearms, exchanging crude banter—he noticed Vallahan crouching behind one of the sand piles, far away from everyone else. What trivial specimen is she obsessing over this time? he wondered. Then, embarrassed, he realized she was probably relieving herself. The suits provided sealable pouches for that purpose, so everything could be dealt with internally and no one would be the wiser. Still, even the ever-practical Dr. Vallahan needed her space when nature called.

Closing his eyes, Earnst allowed his mind to dwell on her. If they were in bed together, would she scrutinize him like an insect on a lab table? She might unlock his ecstasy methodically. Hypothesis, experimentation, evaluation. Or would that laughing side of her personality, which she had revealed only fleeting glimpses of so far, come out in full force?

His fantasies were interrupted by a sound close behind him. As near as he could guess, a stone must have slid free of the sand and struck the hard, ceramic floor. He turned lazily around and saw—not one meter from his head—ten gangly legs and a round body slowly cresting the hill. Despite his long years training to prepare for this exact moment, Earnst flew back in shock.

* * *

“Phenomenal,” said Vallahan breathlessly. Earnst hadn’t even seen her approach. She leaned in close to examine the creature; her brain was so full of innumerable questions, there was no room left for fear.

She could not deny it was a species never before seen on Earth or her many colonies, but what surprised Vallahan was how much it resembled other, familiar animals. More than anything, it reminded her of a Japanese spider crab. It was flat and coin-shaped, with long legs that rose high above its body before tapering to claw-like feet that balanced delicately on the ground. In total, it spanned somewhere between two and three meters. The center of its body was marked by a glistening hemisphere, which Vallahan could only assume was the creature’s eye. Although there was no way she could know for sure, it seemed the organ granted the creature a rotatable range of vision, like that of Earth’s own barreleye fish.

The soldiers instinctively formed a protective ring around the two specialists, poised to fill the creature with metal at a word from Sourav. But Earnst pushed them aside and stepped forward.

“It’s talking,” he told them. His eyes flitted about rapidly, as if trying to follow a mosquito in the air. “It’s… transmitting a radio signal. But I have no idea what it means.”

At that moment, a tremendous explosion threw Vallahan and Earnst face first onto the ground. A searing heat rolled over them. Then the echoing roar was joined by the report of gunfire and screams.

Vallahan craned her neck to see what was happening. She did not dare rise any higher. Thanks to their hydraulics, most of the soldiers had remained standing, but those in the rear, who were farthest from the group, had collapsed. Some of them had stopped moving.

The soldiers were firing everything they had down a tunnel from which a stream of the creatures was emerging. They scrambled fearlessly forward, heedless of injury, like berserkers. One broke from the others and leapt through the air, fastening itself to the nearest soldier with its long claws. A second later, the creature erupted like a grenade, reducing its victim to shrapnel—armor and all.

“Fall back, all of you!” barked Sourav. “We’ll draw them into the passage behind us.”

As soon as he had given the order, another creature flew out from the pack and latched onto his right arm. Though he had been previously convinced he would never have a need for it, Sourav was suddenly grateful his designers had had the foresight to equip him with fully detachable limbs. He swung his arm forward and jettisoned it at the precise instant of peak momentum, launching it, the creature, and his weapon into the middle of the incoming swarm. The ensuing explosion caused a chain reaction in the creatures’ ranks, killing at least one dozen, but the survivors showed no sign of caring. They crawled through the smoke, over the corpses of the fallen, and carried on.

Earnst leapt to his feet and waved his arms wildly over his head. In his panic, a rush of garbled languages poured out of him. “Wēi xiǎn! Die Decke! Hacia arriba! For the love of god, look up!”

The warning came too late. A number of the creatures had been climbing, unnoticed, on the ceiling, and as soon as they were spotted, they fell like bombs from a plane. Earnst seized Vallahan by the arm and hauled her into the safety of the far tunnel.

Sourav dashed in after them. With his remaining hand, he removed an adhesive mine from his belt and slapped it against the ceiling at the entrance of the narrow passage. He shepherded Vallahan and Earnst deeper into the tunnel, out of the mine’s range.

“Repeat,” said Sourav. “Fall back to the tunnel! Fall back to—”

“Stop it!” yelled Earnst. “Haven’t you noticed a pattern? They’re homing in on our transmissions!” He pointed at the entrance.

Sourav’s and Vallahan’s eyes widened. Several of the creatures were running straight toward their position. Sourav waited until the last possible second, when the first of the creatures was about to breach the tunnel, then sent the neural command to detonate the mine. The blast collapsed the roof of the tunnel’s opening, sealing them off from the larger room.

Earnst put a finger to his visor, over his lips. The three of them waited, eyes trained on the wall of rock. Before long, the sounds of screams, gunfire and explosions ceased. Nothing could be heard on the radio, save for a steady background hiss, like the wind over a vast desert.

* * *

They walked in silence. Sourav led the way, using the map he had downloaded into his artificial memory to plot a course back to the surface. Every few minutes, he risked broadcasting a short call for survivors, but there was never any reply.

They reached the initial tunnel without incident. The starlight slanted through the chutes above, as if illuminating the final step of their road to salvation. For a tantalizing moment, it seemed escape might actually be possible.

Then a shadow passed, like an eclipse, over the circular opening of the nearest chute, and one of the creatures crawled into view. It scuttled toward them along the ceiling at an alarming speed, but Sourav’s reflexes were even faster. He whipped a mine from his belt and hurled it like a discus. As soon as the creature was within its effective radius, Sourav trigerred the detonator.

However, a split second before the explosion consumed it, the creature erupted in a flash of chemical light. Vallahan and Earnst were blinded and could only hear what happened next, but Sourav, whose eyes had adjusted immediately, saw six men drop into the tunnel and approach through the settling cloud of debris. They wore coarse, gray robes over their airtight suits with hoods drawn up over their helmets.

“Who are you?” Sourav demanded. “Colonists?”

In reply, one of the men drew a handheld weapon from his robe and shot Sourav in the head. Upon lodging in his skull, the bullet released a contained electromagnetic pulse, instantly fusing the circuits in his brain. The last thing the android saw was a rapid sequence of rainbow colors falling over his eyes like a curtain. Then he collapsed, dead.

The other men produced similar weapons and surrounded Vallahan and Earnst. The scientists, whose eyes had only begun to recover, raised their hands above their heads in confusion.

“This is a mistake,” said Earnst, switching his intercom to a public frequency. “We’re here to help you.” His voice faltered as he realized their commander and the entire re-con team were now dead. What could they possibly do to help?

The foremost of the men made a sharp gesture with his weapon and said something Vallahan could not understand. His voice was soft and even.

“Did you catch that?” she asked Earnst.

“Most of it. He’s using a pidgin I’ve never encountered before. He wants us to come with them. And I heard something about a ‘holy land.’”

“Leave it to religion to foul things up,” she said.

The man looked at Vallahan and spoke a single word. Beneath his hood and his visor, his eyes were barely visible, but she could see there was wrath in them, and nothing else.

“That means ‘no talking,’” Earnst told her, unnecessarily.

* * *

The robed men led Vallahan and Earnst at gun-point back down into the subterranean complex. How much time elapsed and in what direction they were traveling, neither could tell, but they eventually found themselves being led through an airlock door. A sign above proclaimed it to be one of many entrances to the colony’s central terraforming plant.

Rows of flourescent lights illuminated the interior; the walls were sterile and white. After sealing the airlock behind them, the posse stopped, and the man in charge uttered a single word.

“I believe he wants us to disrobe,” said the ambassador.

Vallahan said nothing, but she obeyed, systematically stripping down to her undergarments, as if she were in the privacy of her own home. The metal floor was cold under her bare feet, and it gave her the uneasy feeling that she was slowly waking from a dream. Beside her, Earnst was shivering, and she knew it was not only from the cold.

One of the men collected their suits. Another bound their hands in chains. Then they were shoved through another door. It took all of Vallahan’s self-control to stop herself from screaming aloud when she saw what awaited them on the other side. The corridor was lined with what had once been offices but, with the crude application of a few dozen metal bars and a welding torch, had been converted into jail cells.  As she and Earnst were marched past the obstructed windows and doorways, they could see each cell was occupied by three or four wretched prisoners. They neither begged for help or cowered in fear. With blank faces, they watched the procession, like animals incapable of understanding.

The armed men ushered Vallahan and Earnst into a cell at the end of the corridor. It was larger than the others, and two prisoners and a guard were in the room already. Evidently, the prisoners were being forced to operate some sort of device, which was sitting in the middle of the floor. Once Earnst was able to get a closer look, he recognized it as their ship’s communicator.

The leader of the robed men removed his cowl and his helmet. His eyes had the appearance of stars viewed from space—twin fires hanging utterly still, wrapped in perfect silence and darkness. He began to speak in stilted English, as if reciting by rote:

“We know who you are—Dr. Vallahan, Dr. Earnst. You and your soldiers are ignorant tresspassers in our promised land. You are granted life only because you are useful. By now you realize there are no aliens here. They are machines—our creation. However, you use device, there, to send message to your government, and you tell them you found alien race. You tell them aliens are self-aware, and demand…” 

The last word was in a language Vallahan did not recognize. Earnst turned to her and, with dread sweeping over his face, said, “Sovereignty.”

When Vallahan merely nodded in acceptance, retaining her composure, Earnst’s terror deepened.

“You realize what this means, don’t you? Under colonial law, a planet discovered to be inhabited by sentient, indigenous life is legally off limits! We’d be handing these fanatics a blank check to—”

“No more talking!” The leader ordered, jamming his firearm into Earnst’s spine. “You send message now.”

Vallahan nodded again and said, faintly, “Clavis aurea.”

The fire behind the man’s eyes flared. “What does that mean?” he demanded.

“It means ‘I understand,’” Earnst lied, and he was relieved to feel the pressure of the gun against his back ease somewhat.

Even if the man had understood Latin, he wouldn’t have known what she had meant by “golden key,” but Earnst realized her true meaning, and the words washed over him like a soothing wave. As Vallahan crossed over to the communicator, he dove into his own mind, to sort through millions of languages and construct the perfect hidden code.

*

“No Man’s Land” was first published in Jupiter magazine, no. 30 (October 2010).