“…and with the successful launch of Crew 36, SoCaSA have confirmed the flight crew for their Race to Xemis craft, the Nimma.”

The TV that took up most of the wall of Administrator Vil’s wall was currently set to the Conglomerate’s leading news agency. The image on the screen was of the rapidly ascending rocket carrying the soon-to-mentioned crewmembers aboard it, with some talking head in a small window in the bottom corner. All Vil had to do was their head to the right barely and they should see the plume of steam and water vapour that the launch had left behind, but Crew 36 was now too distant for their ageing eyes to make out against the late evening skies.

“Crew 36 will take a few days to rendezvous with the CSS where SoCaSA has spent the last two years constructing their entrant into the race, the Nimma. Captained by veteran Captain Rejach Vaanj,” the screen split, still showing the ascending Crew 36 rocket, catching the first stage separation, and bring up an image of Vaanj, in uniform and looking as heroic as possible. “Mission Pilot Major Zihaz Gin,” a large brute of a figure replaced Vaanj’s photogenic image, “who despite being a drone has nonetheless proven themselves admirably.”

Vil couldn’t help the scoff at that. The inherent disregard for drones in their society was appalling. Vil had been considered a radical in their early years for considering them as equals to everyone else, but society had over the last few decades finally started to catch up with Vil. Or saw that the Kinship’s ‘universality’ ideology meant they had a larger population base to work, research, educate and lead. And that couldn’t stand at all.

“And last is Mission Specialist Doctor Pas Jel, the oldest member of the crew.” Jel’s visage replaced Gin’s and by far looked the most youthful, but that was a byproduct of the Second Ordeal. But Jel’s intellect was just too sharp to ground at this time. The leading authority on the technical aspect of the Cush Plan, there was no way the Nimma could fly without Jel to nurse the ship along.

“Though we have to ask, why only a three-person crew and why this late in the race, with the Pact and Kinship both announcing they are only a couple of weeks away from Xemis? Why bother launching at all if we’re just going to lose the race? We turn to our science correspondent – “

“Off,” barked Vil and the screen dutifully complied with their demand, banishing the mediatype bashing of their agency that was about to occur. No doubt some senator who disliked the space agency making phone calls to keep such derogatory comments on the air after all.

Left to brood in the rapidly fading light, the sky turning a pleasant orange with red streaks, Vil hadn’t heard the first, or maybe even second time someone had knocked at their door, but had noticed when the knocking became a heavy thud and then the door pushed open by their secretary. “Administrator, message for you from building 8. Doctor Qumahl is requesting your presence immediately. Wouldn’t tell me anything more aside from ‘Qlip confirms Wills finding’,” they said, confusion reigning their face as they relayed the cryptic message.

Demands for a car, scrambling through the administrator building and orders to the driver to ‘drive like you stole it’ saw Vil barging into Tass Qumahl’s offices within barely a quarter of an hour of getting the message. Considering their advanced years, bad knees and ‘healthy’ proportions it wasn’t a bad time. The large central area of the offices seemed to be playing host to all of Qumahl’s staff right now, all of them watching a projected image on a wall, the lights dim to give the projector a chance.

It was a map of their home star system, roughly circular lines for the orbits, little dots and labels for each of the ten planets. A few more dots here and there in different colours for the various space probes of the agencies scattered around Qal – dark green for the Kinship, red for the Pact, blue for the Conglomerate, and a few orange and purple dots from some of the smaller powers were around as well. But the map was zoomed much further out than Vil was used to seeing of late. Normally it was sliced to show everything between Qal and Xemis, or maybe from their star to Xemis, to show the race. Here it was zoomed out and out so that the whole system was maybe a quarter of the whole display.

And there on the edge of the image, hovering over a fire alarm panel, a single yellow icon pulsed.

Unknown Contact 1

“This had better not be a prank,” Vil growled as they pushed through the small crowd to get to Qumahl who sitting with a portable computer next to the projector.

“I wish. We thought we’d turn on the Qlip Sensor and let it start chilling before Nimma took flight and this came up,” the young scientist responded, pointing at the yellow dot. “The whole team spent two hours going over everything to confirm the sensor was working as it should before I called your office. But Clent over there put two and two together and realised those coordinates are damn close in the sky to where the Kinship saw their mysterious X-ray emissions.”

“I thought the Qlip Sensor was only meant to see the Nimma when it’s in flight? They don’t look like they’re moving,” Vil challenged.

“Yes and no.” Qumahl brought up some figures in a small window. Sky coordinates for their unknown contact, a distance estimate messages in light days and a tentative speed value. All the figures were shifting as well, which translated to a faint cone on the map indicating a possible path. “Whatever it is, it’s heading for Xemis and it’s moving around twenty per cent the speed of light.”

“And we have no idea what it could be?”

“None Administrator, it was there when the sensor came online. We honestly thought we’d need the sensor to come to temperature over days before it could detect anything.”

Vil nodded their head and looked around the room at the dozen expectant faces. “Until I say otherwise this is top secret, understood?” Everyone nodded, some straight away, others slowly after a glare, or an elbow to the side from a colleague. “Qumahl, set up a link with Mission Control. We need to let the crew know about this.”

“Uh, certainly,” Qumahl answered. “But whatever this is, it’s way, way past the Nimma’s range. It’s barely got enough fuel capacity for the trip to Xemis and back. Barely ninety minutes of flight time. This is light days away.”

“Be fair to say this could be extra-Qalian life?” Vil asked.

“It’s a distinct possibility.”

“And they’d have had to cross vast distances to get here?”

“Naturally.”

“Then let’s not assume that sublight drives far, far in excess of anything we can do is their limiting feature. I don’t want Nimma flying out there without knowing the risks. I’m telling Vaanj.” Vil’s nod at the end was the non-verbal ‘this conversation is over’ queue and they turned to leave.

“Administrator,” Qumahl spoke after Vil had taken a few large steps away. “We have to tell the public about this eventually. Two days tops by our charter.”

“Damn charter!” Vil spay out. “We’re not telling anyone until I tell the crew and then the Premier. Then and only then, will we tell the public.” Vil shook their head. “This is going to be a shitshow. We’ll be lucky if we can keep the rest of the Cush Plan secret. I’m not risking the Kinship or the Pact trying something stupid to stop us this late.”