Lemuria

The Lemurian “action’ was over the instant it started. The remaining members of the crew watched speechless as they played the ultraslow-motion images of the incident. Dark and grainy, the exposure times for each frame were on the order of picoseconds. Out of nowhere, the ship was surrounded by a sphere of tiny particles that, apparently, materialized out of the void. The particles grew and connected in a spider web pattern. Reacting, the ship’s computer accelerated violently forward in an attempt to break through. It was the evasive action that had caused the violent shudder. More particles materialized in their path, and the spider web grew into a wall. The screen became dark. The ship ceased to exist. The ship existed again, minus Marius, who was no longer in the control room. The rest of the crew had been asleep, fastened into their bunks. A shell of minute structures evaporated into thin air, revealing overexposed images of their new location.

Lemurian transmissions had stopped roughly a second before the incident. Communication had not resumed at the present location. The last topic of exchange was a seemingly innocent one by human standards. It was Fermat’s last theorem. The Lemurians seemed inclined to doubt its validity.

“Can’t we at least ask them what happened to Marius?” queried Kat as she surveyed their new surroundings. She was already checking the status of equipment for an extravehicular search nobody had suggested or authorized. The mood in the conference room was somber.

“No answer. I just asked it where, in relation to the ship, is number one.” responded the computer. Helga raised an eyebrow, irritated that the computer hadn’t waited for approval.

“Why did he get to be number one anyway?” Kat griped, looking over Tatiana’s shoulder for the composition of the atmosphere. Like the other planet, it was a mixture of argon and nitrogen with a few reducing gasses. “Tat, you remember when I asked what they do for fun? I guess it wasn‘t pheromone-scented marbles.”

“Stop it, Kat. We don’t know why they did this. We may never know. What the hell is the use of going out there anyway? You’ll never find him in all that.” Tat’s tone was tired and bitter.

“Their perspective is obvious.” broke in Vigo, who was perfectly in control, perhaps even a bit amused “If a biologist finds a bug interesting, he puts it in a jar. Perhaps he even prods in to see what it will do.”

Helga cut in “You’re right though, I can’t help feeling they are testing us.” If that is the case, let’s give them a human reaction. Even though it doesn’t make any sense, we’re going to try and find him. Vigo and Kat, you two are going out first. Bring climbing equipment. Make it a one-kilometer search radius. Decontaminate everything as you leave the ship, and when you come back.”

Vigo shot Helga an apologetic glance as he joined Kat’s equipment check.

Tat had put in an earpiece and was listening. “Listen to the radio now. It makes a lot more sense at this distance.” She handed the earpiece to Helga, who listened intently for a moment and her features softened.

“It‘s microwave radar.” Helga interjected.

“Yes, a scanning radar, configured as a circular wave radiating inward from the perimeter of that disk below us. I’ve just never seen one designed to operate at such a short range.” She gesticulated downward “That‘s not a landing platform beneath us, its an eye.”