David gripped the hatchway, pivoted his feet forward and pushed off along the passageway. He had learnt to travel feet first in weightlessness after a few too many bruises. Arms outstretched he tapped his way amongst the clutter; boxes, clothing, cables. He felt slime on the walls. ‘Mould!’ He pondered the disorderly habits of his crewmates. Perhaps they were tired after months drifting amongst the Astroid Belt. David braced his legs to stop at the corner. He pushed aside an errant shoe. ‘Must discuss morale with each crew member in next counselling session,’ he mentally noted to himself. Crew counselling was one of his roles as the resident astronaut-psychiatrist. He opened the hatch into the control room, and then pulled himself through.  

A stocky man with a three-day growth was sitting at one of the consols. He twisted around.  

‘Good morning, Doctor David.’

‘Good Morning to you too Mission Specialist Yosuf.’ David drifted to the adjacent chair and grabbed an armrests to pull himself down. He looked at a video screen displaying the time. ‘As it is oh-four hundred hours, Universal Time, I guess it could be described as morning.’

‘Doctor, I am merely enacting your wise counsel. Have you not reminded us the importance of maintaining a rhythm of life in our cosmic situation, even so far as turning down lights and heating for the second half of each twenty-four hour period.’

‘I detest it so when you quote me back. Now, brief me on our current status.’

‘Our alien friend is continuing to transmit.’ Yosuf picked up a flat-screen display unit from the consol. ‘According to the log, we are now into our eighth cycle of the current series. The current cycle commenced at oh-one hundred hours, four seven minutes and five seconds.’  

David adjusted the chair, and then reached towards the console. Yosuf continued. ‘We are continuing to rely transmissions. Tidbinbilla Observatory is currently on line, Madrid in coming up. Mission Control has forwarded our revised communications protocols.’

‘What wise counsel does Mission Control offer?’ David said as he configured the computer.

Yosuf scanned through the flat-screen. ‘Some stuff about the format for compacting data for transmission, addition spectral monitoring—testing some new theory no doubt. We are also to transmit data in Base-sixty.’

‘Base-sixty. That’s interesting.’

‘How do you mean, David?’

‘Well, we find base-ten easier to multiply. That’s one reason why currency is in tens.  However, base-sixty is easier to divide in whole numbers.’ David pivoted his chair to face Yosuf, stretching long legs. ‘Time is primarily specified in base-sixty.’

‘Is that significant?’ Yosuf retrieve a water bottle from a pocket slung from his chair and sipped through a tube.

‘I’m not sure,’ said David. ‘While base-ten and base-sixty seem hard-wired into human brains, there is no particular reason why it would be so for an alien intelligence.’ He picked up a folder on the console and placed it aside.

‘I guess our friend may have twelve or thirteen fingers.’ Yosuf held the bottle to David.

David shook his head, laughing. ‘Might have no fingers at all. What else is on our work schedule?’

Yosuf looked at the flat-screen. ‘Reconfiguring stellar observation, processing crew blood samples, a manual check of carbon dioxide scrubbers—here, look at the worksheet.’ Yosuf passed across the flat-screen.

David grasped the flat-screen as it gently sailed toward him in zero gravity. He run his figure down the list of observations they needed to record along with the host environmental management tasks.

‘Who would have thought First Contact would be so mundane,’ said Yosuf.

‘COMMANDER KAORI NAKIA, TO CONTROL,’ burst from the intercom.

‘Yosuf speaking, Kaori.’

‘Yosuf. Is David on watch with you?’

‘Yes, Kaori. He just arrived.’

‘Good. I want the both of you to focus on the Mission Control’s latest data request. I am taking my sleep period now. I’ll join the both of you in four hours for a crew conference. I’ve told Nazan and Philip to join us.’

‘Acknowledged,’ answered Yosuf.

David pushed himself off the chair. ‘I’ll start checking the starboard carbon dioxide scrubbers. Do you want to run through the primary observations?’

‘Okay.’ Yosuf started typing on the console and various images began cycling through the overhead monitors. They showed a long cylindrical shaped object, darkened with irregular bumps along its surface. Yosuf knew its appearance on the video monitors was deceptive. Their own spacecraft, the SV Investigator, was fifty metres long and four metres across—especially built to send a crew of five out among the Astroid Belt. The alien artefact was ten times that size.

David pushed himself across the control room and started opening panels, noting the discoloration of the carbon dioxide scrubbers. Some would need to be removed and cleaned.

Yosuf continued cross-checking data. The information would then be relayed to Mission Control for analyses. Their task was to observe the alien artefact close up. Two years previously, it had been detected decelerating into an orbit among the Astroid Belt. Then, it started to transmit data. Despite a massive scientific effort, the data had remained unintelligible. One year later, the SV Investigator left Earth to find out more about this visitor to the Solar System. There was a view that it might have been more fruitful communicating without a lengthy time delay. Radio transmissions took almost two hours to travel from the Astroid Belt to Earth. Disappointingly, the artefact had failed to respond to any attempt at communication. Yosuf started checking that the various sensors were functioning correctly. He came to the infrared, which showed changes in temperature as the artefact gently rotated through the sparse sunlight. Now the temperature was rising, and it kept rising. Yosuf read the readouts again.

‘David, I’ve got an anomaly with the infrared sensors.’ Yosuf typed rapidly as he ran through diagnostic programs. David shut an inspection panel and pushed himself toward the console.

‘Can you put it on video?’

Yosuf tapped a few more time. The image on the overhead monitor flickers and turned to a green haze—thermal imagery.

‘Look. The far end is heating up,’ said David.  The green haze took on a lighter hue at one end, signifying it was warmer than the remainder. It continued to get brighter.

‘This shouldn’t been happening,’ said Yosuf. ‘It is the shaded side.’

David glanced over the sensor readings. The image of the artefact continued to grow brighter.

‘Have you tried the secondary sensors?’

‘Yes. Of course.’

David read the data scrolling across the screen. ‘This is way outside previous variations.’     

‘I’m alerting the Commander,’ said Yosuf, and then spoke crisply into his throat-mike.

David continued working through the sensors’ data. ‘Surface temperature on the artefact has increased fifty percent,’ he said aloud.

Yosuf looked up at the glowing image. ‘I’m going to focus the sensors on one of the near-by asteroids and see if their readings are still normal.’

The hatchway open and they both turned around. Kaori slipped though and hauled herself over to the console.  

‘Yosuf, David. What have we got?

‘Thermal anomaly with the Artefact,’ said Yosuf. ‘Look at these figures.’

Kaori glided into one of the chairs. David admired Kaori’s lithe form as she manoeuvred in zero-gravity—as if she was born to it.

Kaori straightened herself in the chair. ‘What else can you tell me?’

David turned back to the video display. ‘The heat gain is localised at one end of the artefact, but spreading.’

‘I assume you’ve already run diagnostics, but let’s do that again. I also want to look at any changes; radiation, signals, displacement.’

‘I’ll measure the artefact’s rotation,’ said Yosuf.

‘Shall I wake Nazan and Philip?’ asked David.

‘Yes, I want them at the science-station. Tell them to report when ready.’

David placed a headphone and microphone on his head. ‘Nazan, Philip. We’ve got a situation here.’

‘What sort of situation?’ answered a groggy voice through the headphones.

‘Energy output must be phenomenal,’ said Kaori as she lent over the console and read the figures.

David clasped his hand to ear so he could hear.  ‘Our friend is acting up.’

‘Maybe the artefact is going to take off,’ said Yosuf loudly.

‘Kaori wants the two of you in the science-station,’ David said rapidly into the microphone.

‘Or explode,’ added Kaori. ‘I want a little distance between us.’

David looked up. ‘We need to observe this event.’  

‘I have to consider the safety of the ship. But we’re not going to move far. We’ve no fuel to squander.’

David refrained from speaking. Kaori was the commander.

‘Yosuf, initiate a short burn,’ said Kaori.

Yosuf started typing commands. ‘Calculating thruster firing sequence.’

Kaori pulled herself into her seat.

‘Thruster sequence configured,’ reported Yosuf.

Kaori clasp her seat belt. ‘PREPARE TO IGNITE THRUSTERS.’  

‘Nazan, here,’ crackled through David’s headset. ‘We’re in emergency position.’

‘On my mark, initiated thruster sequence. Four, three, two, one, IGNITION.’

Yosuf pressed the Enter on the keyboard. A moment later, the spacecraft began to vibrate. Each of the crew could feel a slight pull of gravity. Loose objects started tumbling across the cabin in response to the acceleration. Then after a moment the thrusters ceased firing. On the video screen, the alien object become smaller as they moved away.

‘Look at the temperature readings, now,’ said David. Kaori and Yosuf stared at the thermal image as it glowed yellow, with a bright white patch at one end.

Yosuf turned back to his workstation. ‘Kaori, I’m ready to fire thrusters again to bring us to relative rest.’

‘Wait.’ Kaori studied the radar view showing growing distance.

‘WOWWE!’ David exclaimed as a burst of light erupted from the artefact. A movement later he felt the entire control room shake violently. David was rocked in his seat and felt a sharp pain to his head. Lights flickered, went out and then come back on as emergency systems came on-line. David thought he would faint. He shut his eyes tight and blinked them open, trying to regain his focus. Looking about he saw driblets of blood streaming away in the zero gravity. He held his hand to his head and felt the tacky warmth of an open cut.

‘David. David, are you okay?’ called out Kaori. David looked about and saw Kaori lifting herself off her chair. Then he saw Yosuf’s limp form, arms outstretched, head bowed floating on the other side of the room. ‘Hadn’t he tied his seat belt?’ thought David.

‘DECOMPRESSION ALERT’ boomed an artificial voice from the loud speaker. ‘DECOMPRESSION ALERT, DECOMPRESSION ALERT.’

Kaori lent forward, hit a switch and stopped the alert sounding. ‘Attention, all crew, Emergency, Emergency. Don pressure suits.’

David press one hand to his forehead and pushed towards Yosuf with the other.  

‘David, get into a suit,’ said Kaori.

‘I’ll help Yosuf first.’

Kaori was already retrieving a pressure suit from a locker on the wall, where they were stored for an emergency.

‘You can’t help anyone if you’re dead.’

David slid behind Yosuf, reaching out to stop him rotating.’

Kaori placed the suit on the ground and stood into its leggings. ‘Get your suit on, now.’

David ignored Kaori and pulled himself towards Yosuf face so he could check if he was breathing. He saw Yosuf chest was moving in and out. But his eyes were dilated. David then ran his free hand around him to see if he was bleeding anywhere.  

Kaori had slipped the suit over her shoulders. She slipped an oxygen mask over her face and then pulled over her hood. Each suit contained a tiny radio so astronauts could speak with each other, even in a vacuum. David was deaf to any further chastisement until he had put his own suit on. Yosuf groan and lolled his head back and forth. David feared Yosuf had concussion. He lowered him to the floor, and then placed his fore fingers to his neck, checking his pulse. It was strong and steady. But he needed to keep him warm in case of shock. ‘Yosuf. You’re all right,’ David said allowed. Yosuf blinked his eyes and mumbled. ‘You’ve had a knock to your head.’