Gardens of Destruction

The base hummed with activity. Since the object had embedded itself into the ground, scarcely anyone had dared to blink. From different quarters, shipments arrived, filling the space incrementally with an extensive array of military and scientific equipment. The mobilization was complete, accompanied by rampant chaos. The entirety of a nation’s resources converged to grapple with a situation of unknown proportions. At the makeshift base, not far from the object, stood luminaries of the global scientific community, most arriving here willingly, of course, after signing the requisite confidentiality documents. Amidst some reservations that the quarantine might be insufficient, merely twenty-four hours after the incident, the operation to cordon off the object and erect a research center was in full swing. The coordination was impressive, and the resources seemed boundless. At least, that was the impression on the surface. Yet, fear of the unknown pervaded the minds of those nearby.

General Patterson paced restlessly through the corridors, muttering curses under his breath. He might not have been notably robust, but his physique, even at this age, was extraordinarily sturdy. The extensive time spent in grueling training now served to maintain his vigor. Not even his noticeably receding hairline and the wrinkles could conceal the presence of a leader accustomed to unwavering compliance. He bore the weighty task of orchestrating the entire operation.

“Professor Bernstein, come with me to my office for a moment!” he called out to the preoccupied scientist.

“Yes, Sir, right away,” came the rather unresponsive reply.

They proceeded toward the newly constructed office of the commander, hinting that this might become their sanctuary for a considerable period.

“Please, have a seat, Professor,” the military officer began without circumlocution.

The hastily assembled, portable structure of the general’s office had been essentially transplanted from his official quarters—a minor luxury Patterson had allowed himself. Even the empty ashtray had made the journey. The ostentatious, thick carpet clashed with the raw military interior, while the crystal whiskey glasses within the baroque cabinet compounded the sense of an incongruous design—words that held little significance in Patterson’s consciousness and understanding.

“Following this... what should I term it precisely, situation, I haven’t had the opportunity to speak with you at length. I’d like to inquire about your thoughts on the way forward. Have you had discussions with the other scientists who’ve arrived?”

“Only briefly, General Patterson, hardly at all. They haven’t settled in, they’re disoriented, and the equipment hasn’t been fully unpacked. However, as a starting point, I propose dispatching remotely controlled robots to collect samples from the object’s surface. Let’s ascertain what it represents. Subsequently, we’ll return the robot and proceed with deeper drilling... and potential penetration.”

“We’ll undertake that. But what do you think? Is the asteroid presently dormant?” the operation leader pondered.

“In the last twenty-four hours, we’ve recorded a few weaker tremors, yet we currently lack information about the depth of the object’s apex. If you can direct the reconnaissance satellites, it would greatly assist us. Furthermore, we await a specialized scanner that would also inform us of its depth.”

“That wasn’t the crux of the query,” he added with a trace of worry. “In your opinion, is there a possibility it might... veer off? I need a swift, precise response. The President is fervently interested in the issue and is pressing me for a rather specific answer. He wants to know if there’s any peril, and if so, then a full evacuation needs to be arranged, at least within a two-hundred-kilometer diameter!” The general rose and gazed at the object through the window with reverence.

“That’s an exceedingly complex question, General. Presently, I couldn’t provide any scientific substantiation, but my intuition tells me there’s no danger of it falling. In my view, this is... the standard mode of landing.”

“Landing? Are you rehashing that notion, Professor?” Patterson scrutinized him sternly.

“What else are you expecting? I’m at a loss. Why is it so difficult for you to fathom that this asteroid is of artificial origin? Just await the probe’s sampling; then, you’ll witness my vindication. No natural object can manage its velocity in such a manner. If it had plunged like a true cosmic entity, we wouldn’t be having this discourse; we’d be observing the world’s end. Fortunately, due to its gradual descent, the damages are minimal. The tremors fall below our assumptions. Though it’s inconceivable that an object a hundred kilometers in length embedding itself into the Earth wouldn’t provoke significant shifts in the tectonic layers. Its impact has reverberated across the entire continent. Concealment from the populace is no longer viable; we’ll be obliged to offer some elucidation.”

“Leave that to us,” the general nodded, his gaze on his immaculately polished shoes, only now feeling the weariness from restless hours of toil and strain.

“I observe you’ve summoned quite the intriguing set of scientists, Professor,” the general remarked, narrowing his eyes. “Yet, don’t you feel it’s prematurely summoned such a diverse array of specialists?”

The scientist spread his hands apologetically.

“I opine that we ought to brace ourselves for any eventualities; we’re ignorant of what lies ahead, even less so about what’s concealed within. I comprehend the operation’s stringent confidentiality, but don’t you think we’ll crumble under the weight of global scrutiny? I postulate several nations will soon express keen interest in this object, and possessing all available information beforehand seems prudent before they press us for further explanations.”

“Perhaps your point holds, Professor, but an oceanographer and a cultural analyst? Aren’t you stretching your suppositions a bit too far this time? And could we not have waited a tad longer? Mightn’t a more prolonged quarantine have been more fitting in these circumstances?”

“Sir, don’t you believe that even a nation as mighty as the United States couldn’t effectively quarantine a hundred-kilometer object jutting from the stratosphere?” Professor Bernstein grinned wryly, revealing his notably yellowed teeth.

“Better to commence our investigations forthwith,” he continued. “We’ve already arranged the equipment for temperature readings from a distance. I comprehend that your personnel have nearly concluded the installation of barriers around... this pseudo-asteroid.”

Through his binoculars, soldiers were visible in the distance, fortifying defenses with electrical barriers, designed to deter thrill-seekers, journalists, or any mentally unstable individuals from accessing the base of the object.

“Who’s safeguarded by this fence, General?” the professor quipped with a sharp tongue. “Us from them, or them from us?” he chuckled throatily afterward.

The less-than-amicable relationship between scientists and the military was no secret. Each had their distinct worldview and approach to life’s mysteries, making communication between them a daunting task. Scientists found it irksome to be subservient to a military figure, often deemed inept. Conversely, the uniformed personnel struggled with the total lack of discipline and adherence to rules among those donning white lab coats.

“Mostly from you, Professor!” the general chuckled.

“With your stature and wit, I’d certainly not want to be in the shoes of any potential visitors. At least tidy up a bit!” he continued jesting with the scientist.

“I’d rather appear menacing and bearded than be met with a few kilotons of explosion, just like that, for safety’s sake,” Bernstein retorted, refusing to yield.

General Paterson grimaced. Reminders of failure didn’t sit well with him, especially such a monumental one, despite it not being his fault. He’d forever held the conviction that nuclear weaponry served as the ultimate answer to any conceivable threat. He’d spearheaded the clandestine program to load warheads into space, albeit initially geared towards a wholly terrestrial menace. The quandary lay in the fact that this supposed remedy yielded no impact on the object looming through the window, pushing his irritation to its zenith. Upon confirming that the asteroid displayed no inclination to halt its trajectory, hurtling relentlessly toward Earth at a staggering pace, unswayed in its course, the President had issued the order for a nuclear strike. The silver lining: the mechanisms for intercepting and launching missiles from the space stations operated faultlessly. The downside: the strike’s effect resulted in nullity. Following the explosions, it became evident—the object remained unscathed, resolute in its unaltered path. Now common knowledge, the presence of American nuclear arms in orbit was poised to elicit significant scandals. At present, though, he preferred not to dwell on it; his mind wholly preoccupied by the colossal entity entrenched in the field.

“Professor, I trust that one day you’ll grasp the reality that the world isn’t a utopia. If we can’t tidy up our own mess, I fail to perceive how anyone else might aid us. Besides, recall the lessons of history; the more advanced civilization invariably subjugates and assimilates the weaker one. My counsel: abstain from donning rose-colored glasses presently and believing something momentous has occurred. I persist in my belief that the object poses a threat to us; earnestly hoping I’m wrong!”

At that moment, Paterson’s phone interrupted.

“Yes, alright, bring the gathered material to the new assembly room,” he replied tersely to the caller.

Closing the phone, he paused briefly in contemplation. Rising, he traversed the plush carpet in his gleaming shoes. He yearned for a smoke, an insatiable craving; he’d have given anything for a cigarette in that precise moment. Clenching his jaw, he feigned ignorance of his innermost desires.

“Bernstein, assemble your team in the conference room in twenty minutes. We’ll scrutinize satellite recordings capturing the object’s descent. Furthermore, we’ve deployed a reconnaissance aircraft equipped with cameras and remote operation; you’ll have the liberty to direct it anywhere for a closer inspection.”

“Understood, General, we’ll eagerly review all available data. It’s about time we engage in genuine scientific pursuits; I see no reason to delay any further. I’ll gather the team,” the scientist affirmed before exiting the room.

At the threshold, his commanding officer’s voice intercepted him.

“Professor...”

“Yes?” the scientist pivoted.

“I... I wanted to express my gratitude. For dissuading me from inciting panic and prophesying the world’s end. I ought to have trusted your judgment earlier; evidently, you were right—this... will make landfall without causing catastrophic ruin.”

“No trouble at all, General; I’m always ready to assist. It’s heartening when there’s someone willing to heed my counsel now and then! And inform the President to emerge from the bunker already!” With a faint smile of contentment, he muttered these words and departed the office.

“Bloody military,” he mused on his way to the conference room. “So much time wasted on needless bureaucracy.” He had always loathed their rigid organization. Their narrow minds couldn’t fathom that science wasn’t meant to be confined; rather, the best results sprouted from the freedom to experiment and transcend boundaries. Only then could one genuinely express themselves and delve into meaningful science.

Employed by the military, he found the scientific community more grating than the uniformed personnel. He had long forsaken traditional science due to the flawed system that had taken root. Everything had morphed into a strict hierarchy tethered to diverse associations. It grated on him that the prime goal of today’s scientists revolved around chasing titles and positions rather than conducting true scientific inquiry. Moreover, tales abounded of institutes worldwide where professors compelled their apprentices to credit them as principal investigators in their studies, either without contributing or worse, interfering incompetently. Yet, typically, reaching a certain number of publications propelled one up the ladder, earning the prestigious title of professor.

“An exceptionally competent professor who primarily frequents receptions!” he chuckled at his own jest.

However, the most disconcerting aspect lay in how, due to this very incompetence, valuable research ground to a halt, and worse still, forward-thinking scholars faced condemnation for their studies. Yes, regrettably, within the realm of science, certain taboo subjects existed, something Bernstein couldn’t stomach. The scientific community was apt to dismantle the lives of young, intelligent minds out of sheer foolishness. Should anyone dare to engage with taboo themes in their research, they faced immediate castigation. Areas classified as paranormal, UFOs, extraterrestrial intelligence, bioenergy, other dimensions, and seemingly science fiction-esque matters were flung like stones at anyone daring to explore them.

He himself held such bitter memories. That was why he refrained from pursuing his own field for so long. He had been ridiculed by the scientific community merely for incorporating the supermind as a component in one of his theories on the Universe’s genesis, earning widespread ridicule in scientific journals. He preferred not to dwell on it; the topic pained him deeply, recalling how they treated him. He remained jobless for a considerable time because the university couldn’t abide instructors ousted from the scientific fold.

Then came Paterson. A typical military figure, albeit slightly different. One of the few who listened before speaking, and that’s what had appealed to him initially. Despite their outward differences, they held an unspoken camaraderie that, over the years, had garnered them the reputation of a dependable team. Thanks to their combined efforts, numerous stalled space exploration programs were realized. The general trusted his judgment concerning scientific facts, although their interpretations often led to debates. And the professor admired Paterson’s logistical prowess; hitherto, all operations had been executed flawlessly. Of course, obstacles abounded. The scholar vehemently refused to accept that working for national security meant all findings were classified and destined for military use.

Then came the asteroid. Well, not precisely an asteroid. Bernstein had known that almost from the start, even though accepting it as a scientific fact had proven challenging. He understood that the system couldn’t have overlooked an object of such magnitude; he himself had devised the algorithms for scanning space, subsequently implemented by programmers and engineers in early warning satellites. The system had proven its efficiency; within just a few years, around 1,116 similar entities had been meticulously charted. Potentially hazardous asteroids were those that, simply put, had a chance of encroaching upon Earth by more than 0.05 astronomical units, equivalent to 7,480,000 kilometers (with one astronomical unit at 149,598,000 kilometers) or those exceeding one hundred and fifty meters in diameter. Classification as a potentially hazardous object didn’t inherently indicate an impending collision with Earth; it merely reflected the likelihood thereof.

The conference room was already brimming with scientists. Despite being hastily constructed, everything had been considered. Each seat around the oval table had a microphone, and headphones could be pulled out from the wooden panels for individual sound.

Bernstein had made sure to invite only the best in their respective fields. Some of them openly despised him, but he needed them for the research. He knew their attitude towards him was the same, but at the moment, there wasn’t a scientist in the world who would refuse to be in that research station, regardless of the price to pay.

Precise like all military men, the general burst into the room and headed straight for the central spot at the otherwise elliptical table.

“Good day, everyone! Allow me to introduce myself to those who still don’t know me. I am General Paterson, and I will be leading this operation. You will report only to me and Professor Bernstein, and you will obey everything that is ordered. Yes, I know you are not military, but this is a military operation, and it is a condition that you all be here. If anyone disagrees, it’s best they pack up their belongings now, before I personally escort them out!”

He surveyed all the scientists in the room, most of whom stood staring at the table as if it were the most interesting thing in the world. No one objected to the general’s words, though he was certain many of them harbored reservations. They preferred to remain silent and toy with their pens.

“Very well, since there are no objections, I would like each of you to introduce yourselves, so we can get acquainted and get to work. We’ll start clockwise. You’re first,” he pointed to a small figure with large glasses.

“I am Professor Parker, a physicist,” he introduced himself in a squeaky voice.

“Professor Ferdinand, chemist,” the next in line said.

“Doctor Chu, geologist,” she stuttered nervously.

After the introduction of all present, the general took out his mobile computer from his bag and connected it to the newly established internal network.

“Soon, all of you will have access to this network. Let me warn you, it’s an internal network only, there’s no internet access. For security reasons, only two computers in the base will have external access and will be closely monitored for information passing through them.”

A dissatisfied murmur spread among the scientists, but when General Paterson looked at them sternly, they quickly fell silent.

“Now, I assume you’re all familiar with what’s happened, but let’s recap what we know at the moment. The object is approximately a hundred kilometers in length and at least ten kilometers in diameter at its widest. It has a wedge-shaped form, and the buried base is probably around five or more kilometers. We assume it has gouged into the Earth’s crust at a depth of twenty kilometers, but we’re not certain of the exact distance at the moment.”

“Now you’ll see something that nobody else has - a recording from one of our satellites, which managed to track the object’s descent.”

General Paterson turned on the projector and played the video file from his mobile computer. The footage was black and white, but what it showed was astounding. The colossal column moved at great speed straight toward Earth. Suddenly, it received something like an impulse that pulled it back. It froze for a second in one place and then continued, this time much slower. The procedure repeated several times until its speed decreased to a minimum. And then it entered the atmosphere. Disregarding the angle of attack, it descended perpendicularly. The video switched to another, likely taken from an aircraft in the sky, as the scale changed, revealing its gigantic size. Through the night vision device, the front of the needle turned bright white. Then, effortlessly, like in slow motion, it plunged into the ground, slowed down and stopped.

The room fell into a profound silence as everyone attempted to comprehend what they had witnessed. No one dared to speak; the silence cloaked them like a heavy mantle.

“I believe I know what happened,” Professor Bernstein broke the silence. “I have a theory, and if you allow me, I’d like to share it with you?”

The general nodded affirmatively.

“I think the object deliberately entered the atmosphere at that angle, ensuring that the front part would be subjected to the highest friction due to its high-speed descent. Then, upon reaching Earth, imagine it as a heated knife slicing through butter. That could explain why the seismic activity felt wasn’t as strong as anticipated. The object’s nose melted everything it touched, gradually losing speed due to increasing resistance.”

“Agreed, it makes sense,” some of the scientists at the table commented, though they seemed somewhat shocked by what they had seen or by its sheer size.

“I just don’t understand what material could withstand the temperature required for such a maneuver?” queried Professor Parker.

“Yes, and I’d like to know the composition of the rock too!” Professor Ferdinand chimed in.

“Gentlemen, without stepping out of this room, I wouldn’t call it a rock anymore!” Bernstein interjected with his hoarse voice.

“After all that we’ve seen in the video, there’s no doubt in my mind that the object is not of natural origin. And no matter how much someone may not want to accept that fact, they’ll have to challenge their entrenched scientific thinking. We’re on the verge of an incredible discovery, and it’s up to us to be completely objective. Everyone is counting on us right now to give our best and obtain answers,” Bernstein added.

“And what do you intend to say, Bernstein?” the general sarcastically interrupted. “That we have a UFO in our backyard?”

“Not yet, Sir, at least not until we confirm the scientific facts. But agree that sooner or later people will have to learn the truth. Besides, I’m quite certain that other nations already have enough data to draw the same conclusions analytically. We can’t keep it hidden forever; my small pocket isn’t that big to conceal it there,” the professor retorted, casting angry glances at the silent scientists and his superior.

“Calm down, Professor. You focus on the scientific work, and let me handle the politicians and foreign nations. When we have enough information, then we’ll assess how much and what kind of data to provide to the public. Now let’s concentrate on the current task.”

He returned to his computer and after a few seconds, an incredible image appeared on the projector. An unmanned aircraft circled around the object, relaying live high-resolution camera footage. In broad daylight, the scale and various details were clearly visible. It resembled a colossal wedge. Up close, it had an irregular shape, with layers seemingly placed haphazardly upon one another.

“Gentlemen, the operator is online and can hear us. If anyone wishes to direct the aircraft somewhere, just say so,” the general interrupted the silence.

It appeared that no one had any intention of doing so. All were fixed on the object, greedily consuming every detail. No openings were discernible. Despite the varying “furrows,” the surface appeared monolithic. The pilot began circling, slowly descending. No differences were noticeable, not even a change in color as it decreased altitude. It was dark, yet the material didn’t evoke the feeling of stone. It was matte and devoid of reflections, yet strangely smooth.

The observation continued for about fifteen minutes before the general decided there was nothing more to discover and terminated the connection.

“So, gentlemen, any comments?” he inquired with interest.

“It’s hard to say anything definitive, Sir,” one of the scientists began. “For me, it remains inexplicable how this object passed through the Earth’s atmosphere without any signs of damage. I hope the chemical analysis of its composition will provide us with more answers.”

“I’d like to note that there are no traces indicating it’s an aircraft. I don’t share Professor Bernstein’s enthusiasm. As an engineer, I wouldn’t rush to declare this as an aircraft, not until we thoroughly examine the object. To me, as a non-astronomy specialist, it resembles an asteroid.” Dr. Chu expressed his perspective.

Bernstein paced nervously, the only one standing in the meeting room. The general observed him, slightly irritated by his eccentric behavior.

“Wouldn’t it be logical that if we’re truly dealing with extraterrestrial technology, it wouldn’t resemble Earth’s? I know it’s challenging for you to step out of that perspective, Doctor. But be a little more open-minded!” the professor retorted, with a slightly unsettled tone.

“Gentlemen, I suggest we not argue prematurely about things we’re yet to comprehend!” The general intervened, nipping the budding dispute in the bud, casting a stern look at the two scientists.

A knock on the door interrupted them. A uniformed personnel swiftly approached, delivered a report to their superior, then promptly exited the room.

“Take a short break, gentlemen. I’ll be expecting you in the control center shortly. We’ll monitor the robot that’s already on-site. Hopefully, we can gather some answers soon,” the general instructed.

The scientists dispersed, some hurried outside, seeking a quick smoke break. They formed small groups, resembling frightened children expecting reprimand from a teacher. It was peculiar to witness mature, intelligent individuals with established respected professions becoming somewhat inadequate when faced with the unknown. Such thoughts crossed the general’s mind as he observed them through the window. He hoped Bernstein had chosen the right people to tackle the weighty task of pioneering something that no one expected to occur in his time.

***

Was there light? No! It wasn’t yet time to rise. When? Soon? They didn’t know, but they heard. Life began to stir, slowly awakening from its long slumber. A moment awaited for so long—was it too long? They didn’t know, not even Them.