THE

ARTEFACT
BY

JOHN BAXTER
2012

PROLOGUE
In the vastness of space, and with Mans ever increasing creativity, the knowledge
learned over time by the human race allowed him to break free from the confines of his
own planet, and to gain the ability to travel great distances, to other systems, and
ultimately, to other planets.
The human race was meant to go out there, out beyond the stars that we frequently see
in the night sky from Earth. To boldly go, quoting a well-remembered old phrase.
This action, this realisation of the dream of Man, to colonisation beyond the stars
would over many lifetimes, create wealth and prosperity to mankind and his everincreasing demands on nature. Unfortunately, this colonisation over time would also
create an absolutely huge number of logistical problems.
The further out we went, the greater the problems would become, and yet, the human
race continued to expand ever farther out, solving the problems as best as they could.
The primary goal was to colonise, but this also created the most difficult problems
facing these early pioneers. Space was just too big. The problem was with space itself,
and everything that was in it, or not in it depending on which way you look at it, and, as it
is still expanding at a phenomenal speed, the distances from one sector to another, the
distances already vast, were becoming even more vast as the sectors, the planets, even the
stars continuing to fly away from each other in all directions.
This, over time, had the effect of making each colony more and more isolated, and
each new colony founded would have to, in a relatively short amount of time, become as
self sufficient as it could from materials within its own solar system, or at least be
restricted to its near neighbours for its every need. The gaps were forever widening.
In the early days, huge cargo ships carrying various items of a specialist nature for the
colonisation program or the building infrastructures would have been ordered from some
plant on a planet in a near sector inside the then known grid, but then, theoretically
speaking, could take anything from five up to two hundred years for the ordered part or
parts to actually arrive at the final destination, spending time at the various way stations
on the route.
The factory or plant that had ordered these parts in the first place might not even exist
on the destination planet any more, and with the ever increasing latest technological
advances, the new technology could well have overtaken the need for these originally
ordered items long ago. In other words, they were obsolete. They would still, however,
under Interplanetary Law, have to be delivered.
Imagine this on a galactic scale, and happening over many millennia.
There would be items stored all over the whole human occupied areas of space, the
person who had actually ordered the cargo by now long gone, and whatever its use had
been now superseded, so these huge piles of old cargos were totally outdated, there use
also long buried and forgotten.
All of these unwanted items become a sort of huge collection of unused historical
artefacts, and so, in an attempt to try to alleviate this growing intergalactic problem of
mass rubbish storage and also to supply a new and huge source of recycled raw materials,
a galactic wide government controlled body, known as the Central Command for Artefact
Disposal was brought into existence.
Each region of space was to have its own base set up on one of the more centrally
occupied systems within their galaxy, and to collect the artefacts from colonised planets
within the galaxy itself. This would be their catchment, their patch. As only two

galaxies were currently being colonised, this would not be difficult to set up, and the
recycling plants would supply the raw materials reprocessed from their scrap artefacts,
back to their donor planet, for the usual charges.
Their first basic job would be to locate the numerous piles of forgotten artefacts on
each colonised planet, or ones that had been previously colonised and now abandoned,
then arrange collections of these many and varied metals, plastics, wood, and other types
of materials to a central pickup point on that planet, then arrange space transport for it all
to one of the two processing depots for last analysis and finally categorised.
This huge amount of space junk would be coming in from the many locations around
the known universe, some of them would be sent for preservation if the artefact seemed
to be of some artistic value in its present form, or if not, to recycle the metals if possible,
and if there was nothing to salvage, scrap completely.
The government agents would travel out from one of the central hubs, go to a planet, or
habituated moon, examine the huge collection of artefacts held there in bulk, and set
about authorising the collection of all of this unwanted detritus from all of the
warehouses where it had been stored for up to a couple of hundreds of years.
This government sponsored body, when it was finally up and running, explained in its
advertising spiel that with many of the natural resources on the numerous planets already
inhabited by the Human Race were dwindling, with general raw materials becoming
more and more scarce, especially in and around the older occupied worlds, where they
had been produced for the longest period of time, and therefore almost exhausted.
These non-essential items within these huge warehouses would only have to be sorted
for their recycling value, particularly the metals, and then either recycled or if of no use,
scrapped. This would then hopefully negate the need to pay the very, very expensive cost
of mining new raw materials, needed for use in most types of manufacturing.
Recycled raw materials, not only all types of metals but also the same rules applying to
plastics were then easier to store in large quantities, the plastics as small coloured pellets.
The metals would later be moulded to their ingot form, and stamped for quality and
purity, then shipped back to the donor planet for the fees, where they could be brought
into use when needed more or less at any time.
By working this way, the occupied planets could make their own new parts really
cheaply as and when they really needed them, using the numerous banks of stored ingots
of metals and alloys, or plastic beads sent back to them from the recycling plants.
There was, however, another far less transparent reason for this C.C.A.D. to be doing
this recycling though this was never mentioned in the massive publicity drive used to
promote the venture when the whole thing was set up many, many years ago.
Some of these ancient items spread throughout the known universe and stored over
such long periods of time may not be as safe as they were believed to be, and could
possibly have come from some kind of ancient weapon, or parts of a weapon used in the
past, for either explosive, chemical or even biological warfare, all of these uses long since
banned by universal decree. These needed to be removed from the public domain.
These artefacts, as they were now always referred to by that name, may be only
twenty years old but could still possess some sort of forgotten chemical or biological
technology, which in the wrong hands could create total havoc to all life, as we know it.
This was one of the reasons why these artefacts were in reality, total metal and plastic
scrap that had to be collected and disposed of.
Chemical intermediate bulk containers, big white plastic tanks were used to transport
liquids, and many thousands of stacks of individually packed and labelled compounds,
and metal parts, together with countless packing cases of shielded radioactive materials,

were all standing around in dusty old cold and unlit warehouses, awaiting the arrival of
the Inspectors, for transport to a collection point, and finally, onto the massive ships.
To the uninitiated, all of these packages would have appeared to be merely some
ancient, long forgotten artefacts that had stood in their decaying individual boxes or
crates for countless years, and were by now of little or no interest to that planets
government, or any of its storekeepers. A total waste of storage space.
On each individual world, there were many of these types of warehouses per planet, all
of which contained numerous substances of unknown or forgotten origin. They all had to
be cleared out.
Most of the returned unused material from these places was recycled, processed back
into blocks, pellets or ingots of different raw materials and then sold back to the donor
planet for just enough to cover the transport and recycling costs. This was still a great
deal cheaper than trying to source or mine new raw materials. The liquids were
chemically separated into their constituent components, and tanked ready for reuse.
However, not all items were dealt with this way.
Items that were of great interest to one particular part of the governments recycling
industry were dealt with a little differently. This department, which worked within the
other departments, dealt with the more unusual side of business.
This department within a department did not report its analysis findings to head office,
but directly to a special government office set up for just that purpose.
Inside some of these cargoes from the nearer, and therefore much older worlds, were
many kinds of historical weapons technologies all of which had long since been banned
by the many planetary governments around the known Universe, banned mainly because
of their barbarism and also their effect on the general ecology of each of the planets
themselves.
This special government agency wanted these weapons out of the free market. Their
technology had to remain a forgotten one, so by keeping a rigid control of the space junk
collections, they made sure that no one else could get to see or learn from these banned
technologies.
They carried out experiments to prove or disprove the stated or understood use of these
various artefacts, to see what they were actually what they were supposed to be. This way
they would always have the upper hand, and be in control if there were to be leaks.
There was also, unfortunately for these special Government bodies, other interested
parties, who were equally interested in these finds too.
These were of a different kind of intelligence, and possibly of a different mindset,
people who also wanted to have this control too, this power, to use in their plans for
wealth. Security would have to be very tight indeed.

CHAPTER ONE
The doors of the huge cargo ship slid almost effortlessly into the docking rings of the
space station, the docking clamps then engaging automatically. The outer rings of the
ships airlock door mechanism locked into the slots on the side of the space station dock,
then rotated the wedge shaped lock rings to pull the outer seals on both craft together,
guided electronically to line up perfectly, then by rotating the locks another ninety
degrees it would form the perfect airtight seal.

This artefact transfer pickup was to be one of the shorter cargo transfers for this ship
and crew, as all of the inbound ancient artefact materials on board this station had been
collected and brought here for transfer from all over this sector. The cargo had already
been checked, catalogued, packed, and where needed, made ready for safe passage to the
main hub for final processing on Galilee 18, some four months travel away.
This was the only efficient way that shipping could to be done over these vast
distances, using different depots to hold the artefact cargo from the different sectors, and
then the depots sending it all in bulk to the regional depots, who would then forward a
load to the space station, where the mighty giant size ships could collect for the long haul.
In a way, a sort of conveyor system, gathering them up from all parts of the territory.
These massive cargo ships could not attain light speed, nothing was able to yet, but
they could get up to about 95 per cent of it in the lesser occupied areas of space, where
there were few objects to collide with before you were aware they were there. These near
light speed corridors were used like motorways, cleared of any obstructions that could
harm a freighter at near light speed, and kept clear of space debris.
The journey times per run were kept to a minimum, and all kept within a reasonable
timescale. By using really massive ships with huge cargo capacity, this made all of the
collection and return journeys a lot more profitable for the haulier.
This had been the fourth run inside two years for this ship and crew with their families,
and on the completion of this run to unload at Galilee 18, they were due to take a full
years shore leave, with pay and bonuses.
These ships were more than just workplaces though they were whole communities.
Babies were born on board, children were educated on board, their parents all worked
on board, and sometimes the elderly died on board. This was the life of the people who
served among these very special space freighter crews. Everything they needed was here
on board, though to some, it never did quite feel like home.
The company had done some extensive research into deep space travel, and had found
that in the past, after about two years or more, the crews could not work properly, even
with their entire families along, as beyond that time, they would start to complain about
their kids not getting the best chances of applying for any of the planet based jobs in the
job market, and were only being trained to work on the ships and not in any of the
administration parts of the operation, and promotion.
The government had also found in their research, that the education received on board
these ships, age for age, was well in advance of the normal planetary-based schools,
possibly due to that on board they had fewer distractions, and the children were more
likely to compare notes with each other and help each other along across the age gaps.
These very well taught teenagers became another precious resource for the good of
mankind and all of the occupied planets. The pupils coming from the ships were usually
very highly qualified in comparison to the planet based students, and were more
disciplined within themselves, making them prime candidates to become the future
leaders who would, in their own time, run these governments and their many facets in the
future.
Life on board these huge craft was not seen as a chore; in fact, there was a large
element of luxury about the lifestyle, with sociability being quite high on the agenda.
The living quarters were almost palatial, these ships being so massive there was no
reason to restrict the room sizes to little cabins, and as they would rocket through space
with no resistance to speak of, overall size really didnt matter.
As long as everyone on board played by the rules, and did not upset, interfere with the
life of, or harm anyone other than himself or herself, it was not a bad life to live.

There was however, one rule that was a total taboo, and was so serious that it could
cost you your life.
This rule was chanted over and over again in the crew training schools at the various
depots throughout the known universe, and it must never ever be broken. No one in living
memory had ever heard of an instance where this rule had been broken, as to do so could
endanger the ship, the whole crew and their families, and possibly the stations or planets
where they docked.
The rule was simple, and straightforward.
Under no circumstances whatsoever must any crew person, or a member of their
family, or anyone connected with the day to day running of the ship, enter any of the
cargo holds from either inside the ship or from the outside, or in any way tamper with the
door seals placed there by the loading marshals at the completion of the loading or
unloading on both the inner and outer doors, at any time throughout the whole flight.
The fire alarms within the cargo holds used Halon gas, which could put out a fire in
seconds, but would also kill a human if one was in there as it forces out the oxygen. Best
to leave well alone was the phrase used.
No one, for any reason whatsoever, from the Captain downwards was allowed to break
the quarantine seals placed at various positions within the various sections inside the
cargo holds. The nature of the types of cargo carried by these ships could easily infect a
crew or family members, then they, having no antidote or natural resistance, could pass it
on and on, until it became a ship-wide epidemic, finally rendering the whole crew and
therefore the ship, totally useless. It would then have to be destroyed with all hands, dead
or otherwise, while in space. Blown to bits, basically.
This, on the face of it, looked very much like some very strict quarantine laws to
protect the human race from long forgotten and dormant illnesses, the immunity from
which being lost long ago.
In reality, nothing having that kind of contagion risk was ever sent through this method
of transport in the collection system, it never had been, and never would be.
Anything that represented that level of biohazard was always sent, almost immediately
and in a totally sealed container, to a total destruction plant in another specially designed
incinerator on a planet elsewhere within the group.
Was the crew in any danger from this space junk? Not as long as the seals were intact.

CHAPTER TWO
The loading had begun two days ago, and though the facilities on this massive space
station were not extensive, it gave the crew from the ship and their families a change of
scenery, and enjoy a well-deserved break. To look at something different.
This was the time they took for buying all of their personal needs, things that were not
usually found in the ships stores. Clothing, jewellery, perfumes, the wives of the
crewmen always appreciated this sort of goods.
Some of the crew would enjoy a beer or two, some would buy more reading books for
those long nights at the consoles where nothing ever happens, but you have to be there in
case it ever did.
This four day layover for loading was one of the shorter ones, this space station not
being capable of holding more than about three quarters of the ships total capacity, but

with the amount of loading crew available on the station being lower than the larger
stations, this put the time factor to load back up to four days or so.
The ships crew werent worried by this, as all they really cared about now was in four
short months from now, they had a whole year of paid leave, on their own planet of
Galilee 18, with their extended family. This stopover was used as an ideal time to pick up
a few gifts for parents, or even grandparents, to gift them on returning home.
The life of the crew of one of these freighters was not a bad one. They had these
stopovers, they had their family with them, those who had family, and the whole
operation seemed to be a good one. The pay was good, very good in fact, and a lot of
people on the planets trained to do this kind of work, so there was never any shortage of
crew due to natural wastage. It seemed a good life.
The government always made sure that the crews were happy, and made sure they were
paid on time. They had to make sure that they wanted to remain in their jobs, happily, and
obey the rules, that way they were less likely to steal any of the artefacts and sell them on
the black market, or dig around the cargos to supply information to another interested
party, for money. They had to make sure that any other organisation wanting these
artefacts or information on them could not afford to pay these crewmen enough for what
they would lose if they were caught. It had happened before, but not for quite a long time
now. It was treated as High Treason.
The crews were happy, the government was happy. Everybody was happy

CHAPTER THREE
Galilee 18 was a fairly ordinary type of habitable planet, as we would more or less
understand the definition. A hot liquid metal core, similar to Earth, and a magnetic field
being generated by the spinning of the core, meant it could retain an atmosphere, and
offer protection from the huge star of Galilee, even though the planet itself was a little
smaller than the Earth.
It had no special features; its weather patterns were in no way extreme, in either heat
or cold. It had seasons, similar to those on Earth but not as severe a difference, as it didnt
have the tilt in the axis that Earth has It did however have a stable orbit around its star,
Galilee. Its orbit was much further out from its star than the distance between the Earth
to the Sun, but it revolved faster, making the day 24 hours long-ish. The seasons were
longer though, lasting almost a year each.
The star of the Galilee system was much greater in size than the Earths sun, and the
inner planets, up to Galilee 14, were all extremely hot and hostile environments, even for
the robotics division of the artefact collectors.
G16 and 17 were, by comparison, cooler, but still uncomfortably hot, in particular
during their summer cycle.
Most of the general smelting plants used for the recycling of the metals from the
artefacts were based on G17, though it was impossible for the workers to work there
without wearing an environment suit for most of the day. It was because of these extreme
conditions that the workers based there worked for no more than one week at a time.
Most of these plants were automated, and worked a lot more efficiently at the higher
ambient temperatures, therefore requiring less energy input to melt the various alloys and
base metals. No need to worry about pollution here, as, other than these smelting plants
and the operators, the whole planet was deserted.

G18 was the home of the major artefact sorting warehouses, some very large sites
situated outside and around an equally large metropolis, the houses being built there to
house the many scientists and metallurgists, together with their families, all attached to
the operation of sorting the artefacts into their various metallic categories, of which there
were thousands of tests that had to be performed, to identify each individual metal or
alloy before sending the sorted materials, pre packed, to their respected smelting plant.
Like all well run businesses, the management people here on G18, monitored the
C.C.A.D., continuously.
These were the faceless people known to work upstairs, but never seen anywhere
within the plant, and yet their decisions were certainly felt by the workforce.
New plant had been installed here a year ago, so that the plant could process more
types of alloy based metals, and various less common types of base metals, which
included the precious ones, could now be processed here.
A new smelting plant had been built on G17, to take the increased workload, and the
staff brought in from the old plant to operate it, all transferred here when their obsolete
plant finally closed.
As part of the rules of employment with this company, no one was allowed to remain at
the site of an old processing plant, as the plant would be totally and purposely destroyed.
Blown up, stripped, and recycled.
This was taken to be the normal practice of this industry, where security was very tight,
and these types of relocations were usually seen to be a means to improved efficiency
throughout the quadrant. The various carriers and ships would now operate out of G18,
and the crews and families would also base here too.
The planet had a good clean atmosphere, electricity was by solar power and wind
turbines, the latter being placed in the centre of the huge ocean that took up over half of
the planet, the wind farm almost looking like a shimmering island of blades as they all
turned together.
The total population of G18 at this time physically occupied only about a sixth of the
available landmass, the rest of the available land being held over to be developed as
residential in the future. The polluting industries were all kept on G16, and G17, where it
could not affect anything indigenous to those planets, as they were both dead worlds,
baked dry by the relentless heat from Galilee itself.
In effect, it was a safe, controlled environment to live and bring up a family. Every
need could be met, in life, love, health and peace of mind, and as long as the incoming
artefacts remained in their quarantine state till they were fully tested and identified, there
was no obvious downside to living here. Some of the freighter crews described it as a
heaven to spend your years shore leave on.
That was, until something came in from out there, that would change peoples lives
forever.
The freighter from the space station landed, and docked at the recycling plant as usual,
the crew disembarking for their year off. The unloading crews broke the seals as usual on
the holds, reporting them as intact, then the stevedore crews moved in with their huge
lifting machinery, ready to commence offloading this massive cargo of artefacts, as they
normally would. Up to now, all was well.

CHAPTER FOUR

Jason sat at his desk, wading his way through manifest after manifest, checking the
weight of the incoming cargos onto G18 against the normal scrap being sent out to G17,
and minus the weight of the really unstable or dangerous compounds, which went direct
to the automatic robot controlled destruction chambers on G16.
He was used with casting a trained eye over the lists of different types of artefacts, and
knew not only from where they had been collected, but also from where they had
originated before that. Certain things were common in one sector, and almost unheard of
in another.
His job, as Head of the Security Section at the G18 sorting warehouses meant he had
to more or less mentally monitor every type of item coming in and going out.
Most of the stuff currently arriving at the warehouse in these huge cargo ships was
more or less routine, the same sort of artefacts coming in from the same regions as
before, for example, all the old mining stuff from the closed mineral mining sector DV in
the 8th block in the third quadrant. Lots of steel salvaged from here.
At one time in the past, this area had been charged with the task of supplying all of the
mineral requirements to the whole of that huge sector, this in itself was a massive
undertaking, but after the new mineral finds, and the recycling processes. It had become
obsolete with newer and much larger deposits being found elsewhere. These larger
deposits were easier to mine, so, it meant that these old mines were doomed, and so were
closed, the salvage crews sent in to sort out the many shipments to the recycling planet.
It was estimated that it would take about 50 years to clear all of the heavy-duty
machinery away from all of those mines on that planet, but the recycle value of the
metals alone would more than offset the cost of its recovery. The plastics, fabrics, even
the old fashioned wood, could bring in a price.
In fairness, and by way of a payback, the Company paid for all of the landscaping of
any areas that may have been scarred by this industrialisation in the past too.
The cargoes coming in from these various sectors contained many types of objects
which were almost run of the mill for Jason and his crew, even though millions of tons an
hour were being processed inside these huge warehouses, they were just about all
predictable. If you knew where they came from, you knew what they were made of.
The sorting process was very thorough though. Even the minute silver or gold
electronic contacts, tiny as they were, were all stripped from their retaining metal alloy
strips, and into their specific container. Gold was equally as important as iron as all
metals here are precious. The whole cargo would be sorted, graded, broken into little
pieces and put into their correct bin, ready for despatching to the smelters. In this
warehouse, everything was precious.
Todays statistical printouts were very much like yesterdays, or last weeks, or even last
years, and usually had very little variance.
It was while Jason was finishing off his last checklist that his phone rang. He picked it
up, and listened.
He stood up from his desk, replaced the receiver, walked to the stand beside the door
and put on his white lab coat. He opened the door and onto the steps leading down to the
floor of the main warehouse. His face bore a puzzled expression.
Impossible, he thought to himself,
Someones made a mistake in the testing, it has to be.
He carried on down from his office, and headed straight for the sorting decks, donning
his management coded blue protective hardhat as he went, and moved his safety visor
into the down position, covering his upper face and eyes, all the while still shaking his
head.

Someones cocked up big time again, he muttered as he made his way through the
plant. These readings are way off the scale. They are impossible. Someones broken the
sensors again
He mentally ran through the auto sorting procedures to get it perfectly clear in his
head, to make sure that there could be no errors.
The stuff came in, millions of electrical charges applied, and the resistances given
would then identify the metal or alloy. Not rocket science.
The automatic selector would then separate the various metals into either their pure
containers, or send the large bits into areas where they would be broken into smaller bits,
and tested again, the pure metals being sent to the correct bins. This would happen over
and over to all of the metals to be processed, the impure fragments would then be split
over and over, till finally, they could be the size of a tenth of a millimetre. Its so easy,
and yet someone has made some sort of huge error.
He muttered away to himself that it was totally impossible for an electric charge to be
applied, and then receive a reading showing a resistance figure of less than one.
Only in a liquid state would any known metal register anywhere near a figure near
zero, and this was rare.
The machines needed to be recalibrated. These printout results he had been told he
was about to see were showing large minus figures in the resistance.
In all of the laws of physics currently known and understood, this would be impossible,
because to have a negative resistance would mean that the current being applied would
accelerate as it travelled through the object instead of being resisted by it. This cannot
happen.
This was going to be another glitch to report to Head Office, and no doubt a mountain
of paperwork to follow. Jason hated days like this.
He arrived at the section where this anomaly alarm had been raised, and went straight
to the Control Room, thinking about the wording of the chastisement that the section
staffs were about to receive.
He briskly entered the office, and looked around for the Section Head himself, as that
was the person he should start with.
He didnt need to look very far as the Section Head stood right in front of him, in fact
the whole staffs of the sections were all there too, from the Heads of Sections right down
to the guy who drove the wheeled scrap bins, all of whom were sitting about, mystified.
Explain! Jason commanded, no emotion in his voice whatsoever as he was handed
these new printouts, the readings definitely wrong. He continued
What has gone wrong with the sensor plant, and why has it not yet been repaired?
The Section Head spoke up first, openly, and equally forcefully, so as to protest his
staff,
There is nothing wrong with our sensors or samplers. The screening procedure of the
metals, it is working perfectly. We are still running tons of metals through, even now,
without a problem.
He pointed to an object on the table.
This is the object that has caused these impossible readings we were getting, these
ridiculous readings.
Jason looked down at the object, which had been laid out and displayed, for his benefit,
on the table in the centre of the room.
It appeared to be a sort of brushed silvery aluminium metal alloy; its shape more or
less tubular in its entirety, the total length being about 50 centimetres. The outer
mouldings around this tubing seemed to be covered in a sort of decorative rope and web
pattern.

As an artefact, it was beautiful to look at, possibly made to order by some unknown
craftsmen a long time ago, but as to its use, if it ever had one then or now, this was not
known. It did not match any of the templates of artefacts contained in the vast computer
files, nor did it have any of the metal properties of any of the vast listings found in the
metal archive databases either.
This object, as long as a musical flute, and of similar shape, with added mouldings
only weighed about half a gram in total. It might have been a type of old candleholder,
made by craftsmen many millennia ago. In effect, it could be anything.
Jason decided that the only way to establish the metallic structure, and therefore the
value of this item, this artefact, would be to receive another thorough, more detailed
examination, so he decided to put it into a special category, which would ensure its
further examination.
He gave it an EXTT rating.
Extraterrestrial. Not of our origin.
This category did not necessarily mean it was of alien manufacture, a real alien, or any
alien object had never ever been found anywhere in the past, this special category meant
only that it was not of Earth or known Terran origin, and could have possibly been part of
an artistic experiment or some other artistic endeavour on one of the colonies many
decades ago, the work, and the artist now long forgotten.
This was where the investigations would now have to start. It was vital to trace the
origin of the collection point as in where it came from, and then who carried it, from
where to where, finally ending up here on G18, so the whole transportation sequence
could then be tracked in reverse.
Jason looked at the options, as this kind of search cost a lot of money, and attracted
attentions from outside that the Company did not want. Either this was a highly
decorative piece of junk; made by some artisan a long time ago on one of the lesserdeveloped planets, or, this little artefact had just become mixed up with the rest of the
collections of the salvage operations from wherever it came from.
This could be irrefutable proof of life having existed out there in the vastness of space,
from a far distant past and now long gone by many millennia. Not of human origin.
Then again, it could be a flute, made by a craftsman, and a very good one at that.
This demanded a lot more study by people far more qualified than the salvage teams on
Galilee 18. Possibly archaeologists and historical scientists, those kinds of people.
There could be more of these types of artefacts out there, where this one had come
from, and once the origin of it had been traced, it was time to bring in some experts.
Unfortunately, communicating with these experts also meant communicating with
people who listened in to these kinds of communications, trying to see if they can pick up
some snippet of information that might be of value to somewhere working inside the
black market, with the goal of giving them personally either monetary wealth, or power.
These people were profiteers and would use any tactics, usually unsavoury too, to get
what they wanted. What used to be known in the bad old days as the Criminal Element.
To contact the experts meant not only revealing what had been found, and also where it
was currently stored.

CHAPTER FIVE
Jason had collected the artefact from the meeting, and taken it over to his office, where
he could place it under lock and key till the arriving experts could examine it, and
possibly advise how to adjust the automatic testing schedules so the plant would be able

to identify it correctly from now on. Basically, this meant giving it a new catalogue
number.
He sat at his desk, the object in his hand, looking at it, turning it round and round,
holding it to the light, and moving it in the light to see if there was anything he may have
missed on his first inspection. The workmanship on this item was really superb, and it
seemed a bit of a shame that it would eventually end up being smelted for its metal value
as opposed to its artistic beauty, once the metal identity had been established of course.
The more he looked at it, the more he began to appreciate the talented craftsmanship
that had been used to produce such a fine piece of work.
There were parts of the raised areas that resembled a rope spun vine with what
resembled leaves wrapping around the general tube, the vine growing over another vine
beneath, and another beneath that and so on.
By the size and superb quality of work, this had been made by a very good silversmith,
though it was certainly not made of silver. It was so very light in weight too.
While he pondered his next move, the office phone rang.
Another piece of the same metal had just been discovered in another load, over in
another part of the sorting warehouse. It had however come from the same salvage
shipload though, so there could be a connection
This time, Jason was a lot more curious than angry, as he knew from experience that
this kind of find he had in his office would have had to have been part of something else,
though the odds of any of the other parts actually turning up were extremely long odds
indeed, and he wanted to see this other object for himself. Perhaps by putting them
together they could attempt to work out what the item was for, or what it did.
He decided not to tell the staff on either processing site of the finds from the other, for
security reasons, and he was at the scene of the second find in less than ten minutes.
One again, all of the staff had collected together in one place, lost for an explanation as
to why their detectors had given this negative resistance reading, the feedback from
which could have severely damaged the sensors themselves, and of not being able to
understand this unusual property of this particular sample. These people had been kept
unaware of the earlier find already reported from another part of the warehouse.
It was important that Jason did not give away any hint that he had seen this metal
earlier in the day, as there were many money hungry scrap metal merchants out there who
had their little spies everywhere, so he asked the same questions of the same level of
management people as he had done earlier in the day, and received exactly the same
answers.
He retrieved this new object too, a sort of a stubby cross piece, with the same intricate
vine markings layered upon it. This was another example of this unknown craftsmans
piece of work. It also had a lot of similarities with the other sample found earlier too. It
was extremely light in weight, perhaps a couple of grams, if that, and made to look like a
frosted finish old silver or aluminium. These two pieces must be in some way related, and
it would probably take a bit of investigation to see how.
There could be other similar samples somewhere out there in that sector, which up to
now had not surfaced, so had not yet been brought here to G18.
No one, to his knowledge, had seen anything like this within the whole of the recycling
boundaries, which meant that these two pieces, currently here in his possession, would
have to be kept as an open case file. The samples themselves would have to be locked up
or stored away for however long it would take for another, similar piece to turn up in the
collections, hoping that another piece would give some sort of clue as to its use.
Jasons report would say just that. These two items were to be catalogued as a work in
progress. These were the first items to be put in that category in over two hundred years.

CHAPTER SIX
The months passed, the normal artefacts were still being offloaded into the sorting
warehouses, the testing was still being done, and the metals were still being sent to G17
for smelting. Everything had more or less returned to normal, and it should remain so,
right up to the time of the arrival of the archaeologists and experts at the plant.
The rumours would then start all over again among the various crews that something
must have been found. This would mean tighter security around the plants, as the metal
stealing pirates would try to swoop in and make off with anything they thought would be
of value to a buyer, and whatever was taken would never be seen again.
The boffins should all be here in less than a week.
As not all of them were coming into G18 from the same area of space, but they would
arrive in small numbers over a period of about four days in total, and this made it a little
easier for the Station Processing Station staff to organise the various accommodation for
these people.
Galilee 18 had some really fantastic hotels, but they came with a really fantastic price
tag, and as the Company itself was footing the bill, then much more frugal rooms were to
be sourced.
The resulting list drawn up of the local hotels was more than adequate for the needs of
these guests who could possibly be working here, technically speaking, for quite a long
time, without inflicting too much pain on the accounts team at Head Office. On the
downside though, they were spread out all over the town, a room here, and a room there,
a suite here, a motel there. In fairness to the Company, they had organised special
transport, initially only while the investigations were ongoing, to all of these boffins from
wherever they were staying and bringing them to the plant itself.
The first two meetings were to be more of a social affair than a summit conference, as
the Director of this operation would not arrive until the planned date of the third meeting,
so these experts more of less mingled around with themselves, patting each other on the
back for the many obscure articles they had written for publication about the many
highbrow subjects they studied. They did all of this while eating and drinking from a
huge supplied buffet. These old published works of theirs would only have be read by
each other, and were generally agreed with as being correct. Their bibles.
Jason stood at the back of the room, looking at the assembled guests, occasionally
overhearing part of a conversation as people walked passed him on their way to the bar or
the buffet. He heard of minor discoveries that made the finder rich, and of major ones that
went to the public domain, with the finder receiving nothing at all. The self-gratification
and backslapping went on and on, all night.
Jason looked at his watch. It was late, and he just wanted to kick everybody out, lock
the doors and go to bed. These academics were doing his head in, big time. They had no
idea why they were here, and had spent the whole night trying to second guess what was
to come, putting themselves forward to be at the front, and therefore more important
positions in the forthcoming investigation, verbally going off in all directions that suited
their speciality, and getting the whole thing totally wrong. Had they known the real facts,
these conversations would have been totally different, and would certainly have changed
their holier than thou attitudes, though judging by what he had heard so far this evening,
he had his doubts. Some of these were so far up their own.

The Director of Operations arrives tomorrow, and he is the only one who has already
been briefed on exactly why they are all here, so this up and coming meeting, the third to
take place, would make extremely interesting listening, and Jason would have to be in
attendance to hear it all. In the meantime, hed had about enough of these, what would he
call them, looking for a word. Arseholes. Yeah, that would do nicely.
The evening drew to a welcome close, the guests were put into their individual
transports, and off they all went.
This was another little niggle that made Jason a bit suspicious of this whole setup.
They all went their own way, all alone, to their own hotels. No hanky panky, no
assignations. These people must have already worked together many times, and over
extended periods of time, both male and female counterparts. Somewhere in all of this,
surely some animal passions must have emerged, and a bit of a fling developing. From
what he had heard in the last few days, this had never happened, as they were true
professionals.
In Jasons eyes, this was not normal human behaviour.
Even the sorting plants here on G18, and the really hot smelters of G17 had their fair
share of scandals, assignations, liaisons, and all that goes with it, creating lots of juicy
gossip from the many assumed things going on, and in the scheme of things, this plant
was but a backwater compared to where these people frequented.
This gave him yet another reason why he should keep a watchful eye on them all.
If there were to be some sort of covert operation plan to steal any of the artefacts held
in the G18 warehouse complex, then it would be unlikely that the potential perpetrators
would want to be seen together, or mingle with the other team members too much in
these little get-togethers, that way if one was caught, it would not implicate the others in
the scheme.
As Jason supervised the securing of the building, including watching the loading and
departure of the caterers, he thought to himself
Paranoia may be classed as an illness, but its one hell of an effective security tool.

CHAPTER SEVEN
The Director arrived, quietly, and without ceremony or pomp, and was taken straight to
the accommodation, without any contact with any of the team that had been selected.
Things needed to be prepared, not just the case before them, but plan the full and
thorough investigation too.
Jason was to deliver the two items found in his plants directly to the hotel room of the
Director, and watch while this expert made their preliminary inspection of both of them,
and on completion of the examinations, return the two items to the safe in his office,
ready for general display at the meeting tomorrow.
He collected the two artefacts from his safe, as he was expected to do, wrapped them in
individual cloths to avoid scratches, even though they had been through crushers at least
twice and come out unscathed, a scratch would seem a bit irrelevant. He then placed them
in a container made of plastic, as these items somehow didnt go well inside metal
containers, sealing the lid ready for transport. It had been a while since he had physically
held these items, but he could still somehow feel their power. Maybe this job was making
him a little paranoid. Maybe that was a good thing, as it could keep him on his toes, and
maybe alive in the future.

He boarded his transport to the Directors hotel, expecting nothing outstanding was
going to happen while he was there.
The Director would look at the pieces, hum and ha about them, and declare them as
some excellent artisan artwork from long ago, and the investigation would end. A new
category would be created in the recycling files, and that would be that.
Thats the way Jason wanted it to play out. No loose ends.
As he arrived at the hotel, he thought of the somewhat cheaper accommodation the
junior staffs were staying in, and the opulence enjoyed by these big cheeses. The chances
were that the junior staff would solve the problem long before the Boss got out of bed.
This was so much the way of the worlds both then and now.
He entered the lift, and pressed for the second floor, still thinking to himself that this
whole episode was a waste of time and money. Some Corporate person would take over,
and that would be the last he would ever hear of any of this. Perhaps this was not a bad
thing either.
By now he was at the door of the Directors room, and he knocked, almost gently.
At first, there was no reply, and then a very pretty young lady opened the door.
Jason explained that he was here to see the Director, and that he had brought the
requested samples for analysis as instructed.
He entered the room, and the door was closed behind him.
This attractive young lady looked at him straight in the face and asked to see the
samples. Jason, of course refused, as these were for the eyes of the Director only.
She looked at him, and smiled. She spoke
Such loyalty is commendable in this day and age, but I assure you I have no reason to
attract your suspicion. Allow me to introduce myself. She opened her card wallet and
showed it to Jason
I am Diane Forrester, Chief Archaeologist for the Company, and the Head of Current
Investigations, making me the Director of Operations for this current investigation
Jason was taken aback, as he had never even given it any thought that the Director
could be a woman, and a very attractive one at that. This could be a complication he
would have to work along with.
As instructed by the Director, he laid out the two items on the coffee table sited in the
middle of the room, and waited patiently, standing by the table, while she handled, and
examined these pieces, one by one, even smelling them for any residue that may remain.
Within about ten minutes or so, she said that he could take them back to their secure
storage location, as she now had all of the information she needed at this point in time,
and she would see Jason at the meeting tomorrow.
A brush off basically. If she knew something, she was not telling.
He wrapped the pieces up in their cloth covers, and placed them back into the plastic
box, clamping the lid, and sealing it. He made sure that all of this was done by the
book, so this Director could not fault his methods.
As he left the hotel, his mobile phone started to ring.
It was the plant. They had found another piece; a third piece of this metal had just
come through the sorters.

CHAPTER EIGHT

As his vehicle pulled up at the part of the plant where the new piece had been found,
the last thing Jason wanted was to have a lengthy discussion, or having to deliver some
long winded explanations to the crew on that shift. He had seen enough over the last few
weeks to make him more sympathetic of the sorting staff than he had been in the past. He
still had to be the Boss though. He thought, this will be in, collect, and out, making the
excuse that it is late, and it will be sorted out some time tomorrow.
As he entered the Section Heads office, he could sense a sort of tension, a sort of fear.
Jason explained to them that they had nothing to worry about, as other similar pieces
had turned up elsewhere in the complex, and that none of this department was at fault.
Old artisan craft stuff, old artwork made from various different alloys were turning up,
and tricking their sensors. This still did not seem to calm them. They were quite rattled.
The Section Head produced this item, and laid it on the table, stepping back smartly.
Jason looked around at the faces of the staff within this office. Every one of them was
staring at the object, though not with curiosity, but with fear. They also drew back.
Jason approached the object to examine it, though without touching it. He could feel
somehow that to touch this would be the wrong thing to do. It was like a sixth sense.
The object was small; about four centimetres long, and looked tubular, with a groove
cut in the centre lengthways. It bore the same markings and designs of the other two
pieces, the vine rope design intertwined.
Jason raised his eyes to look at the Section Head, giving a questioning look. This tiny
almost insignificant piece of metal was spooking them all. Why?
The Section Head understood that look, and began to explain,
When the alarm first went off, when the detectors found this unrecognisable metal
signature, the conveyor system shut down, as they are programmed to do,
A maintenance crew were sent in to see why the conveyor had stopped, as sometimes,
as you know from experience, that really soft stuff we get in from sector 8 can clog up the
crushers as its like beating clay.
Well, we found it wasnt anything like that, so, we started to handpick the remaining
mixed metals off the conveyor, so we could try to re-initialise the start up sequences of
sorting.
He paused for a moment, almost a tear in his eye. The other staff in the room lowered
their heads.
Thats when Ben found this artefact, seemingly undamaged, untouched by the various
processes it had undergone so far.
Jason spoke,
So, which one of you is Ben?
The Section Head looked at his team then back to Jason, and replied,
Ben is in the morgue. Ben is dead, he continued,
When Ben picked up the artefact from the conveyor, he started to crawl back along it,
and out of the covers on the side of the sensor area conveyor, and then began walking
back to the operation panels area, thinking that he had found and was now bringing out
the offending piece of scrap, so the plant could then reboot and re-initialise, and carry on
processing as normal.
He got as far as those panels over there, and then, the Section Head paused for a
moment, a look of sadness and disbelief on his face,
There was an almighty flash, blinding some of the team temporarily, and cooking Ben
from the inside, and severely injured the two guys who controlled his safety lines
Whatever this thing is, it is very, very powerful. It has fried one of my team up to
now, and I mean, he was cooked right through, and the two safety guys have very little

skin left on their bodies, and not expected to make it through the night. I want this
object out of my facility.
Jason listened to the statements knowing that there would be post mortems, and the
causes of the deaths may be difficult to explain under the circumstances, so he decided to
do what he though was the best thing. Pass the buck to the Director.
In the meantime he collected this small piece of artefact, and carried it to his vehicle.
These pieces were going under lock and key for everyones safety till tomorrow.
Questions would be asked about the death of up to three people. Tomorrow was going to
be a hard day.
He tipped this new piece into the plastic tub containing the two previously discovered
items, and sealed the lid. This was going to be someone elses problem, and he knew
exactly which ladys lap it was going to fall in.
Tomorrows meeting should be very interesting indeed now, as the experts would not
only have to explain their opinions on the origins and uses of these artefacts, but also the
reason for the death of up to three people who had handled parts of them.
Travelling back to his office in his transport, Jason thought to himself about the many
possible outcomes from tomorrow, planning ahead for the shock and horror on the faces
of the so called experts when they are told what has happened, and what they need to be
doing to solve it.
Back at his headquarters, Jason picked up his plastic box from the boot, and made his
way up to his office.
Today had been a real pain in the butt, though he knew that once the experts took over
tomorrow, it would be totally out of his hands. He so wanted to get back to normality.
Arriving at the floor of his office, he walked along the gantry to the door into his
security department. In less than five minutes, he was in his office, and opening his safe.
Picking the plastic tub out of his bag to transfer it into his safe, he could see that there
was something not quite right. Something inside of the tub was glowing a low blue
white intensity light.
So, he thought, this stuff is luminous too. Does that mean radiation? Thats all I
need.
He threw it in the safe anyway. This was going to wait till tomorrow. It would become
the Brains Trust to sort this one out. He had decided.

CHAPTER NINE
Jason slept very well that night, which was not a real surprise considering the
exhausting day he had had. His personal downtime from his work in the plant, lost due to
this extra duties he had to undertake with these investigations would take him weeks to
catch up, a prospect he certainly did not relish. However, orders are orders.
As he drifted off to sleep, he gave the problem artefacts a little bit of thought, deciding
that they will be the Directors responsibility by lunchtime, and he can get back to what
he does best. Security.
The buzzing in his ears that he had become aware of was not his mobile communicator
or his alarm at his bedside.

It took him a moment to recognise the sound of his doorbell, being rang furiously, and
continuously. He looked at his clock. 05.45am. Who the hell made house calls at this
time of night?
As he got up and pulled on a dressing gown, he called out loudly to whoever was
pressing the doorbell to stop, and that he was on his way. Hopefully they didnt hear the
curses too.
He opened the door, ready to give someone a lashing with his tongue, and had started
to do so he realised it was a very disturbed looking Director at his door. His temper
cooled very quickly. She barged passed him and into his sitting room, planting herself
firmly on the large sofa that Jason kept for his personal pure relaxation. This item of
furniture was Jasons favourite. Its skin was pure, soft and made of a very comfortable
leather material. It had been specially imported and it wasnt cheap.
Somehow Jason thought that there was going to be little room for relaxation today, and
this was going to be another one of those days.
He turned to the door, closing it quietly, and turned back to face his unexpected guest,
offering the Director a coffee as he made his way to his small kitchen, and put on the preprimed percolator. Even if she didnt need a caffeine boost, he did, and as he drank the
hot liquid, his senses gradually started to come back to somewhere near normal.
The Director looked at him, though not with a hard accusing look, but a softer, more
appealing one, and started to speak, explaining why she was here, interrupted only by
Jasons question as to whether she wanted a coffee. She declined, and began speaking,
I have had a call from the night-watchman of your office building. He has told me that
while on his second round of the four he would do tonight, which would make the time
about 3am, he passed by your outer office, and assumed that your lights were still left
on.
He went to investigate, which is also part of his duties, as he remembered you leaving
much earlier and he hadnt seen you, or booked you in on a return,
She paused while Jason confirmed that he had said goodnight to the watchman at the
gate on his way out earlier in the evening. Jason always thought that for an old guy, this
watchman was very good at his job, very alert, and with an enquiring mind not found in a
lot of younger people. He was a bit like an old soldier, yeah, a veteran.
However, why did the watchman phone the Director first, and not him puzzled Jason.
Let this one play out, he thought, and find out later.
The Director continued,
He got to your section of the building, and like I said, and it looked as if you had left
the lights on, something you never usually do.
Jason nodded at this. Yes, I am good at what I do, he thought, but waited to hear the
rest of the story before he would speak out loud. She continued,
He opened your door using his pass key card, and looked around, calling to you to
answer.
When you didnt reply, he feared that something may have happened to you, so he
ventured through into the inner office. You were not there, and the lights were not left
on,
She paused, as if to try to work out how to phrase the next statement,
Your solid metal safe and the two metal filing cabinets, one either side of it were
glowing like a Christmas tree, with a bright blue colour. A really bright glow, almost a
blue-white. Needless to say, the watchman was a little taken aback, and as part of the
special instructions given to him recently, he contacted me directly.
That answers the question why he didnt contact me first , Jason thought, though I
would have liked to have seen these special instructions when they were issued.

The Director, looked at Jason, and said, in a really loud, and perhaps stressed voice,
Regardless of any reasons or beliefs you may have to the contrary, or apprehensions
and interpretations you personally hold, it is in all of our best interests that we, together,
and now, go to your office and look at these artefacts, tonight, before the full meeting
tomorrow evening, to see what the hell is going on!
Jason stared at the Director throughout the outburst, but in his own mind he knew she
was right, and he could see the logic and the sense in doing what she suggested. They
could get the upper hand on what would be discussed within the scientific community in
the meeting if they had the chance to examine the changes in the artefacts, at length,
beforehand.
He dressed and prepared himself, then out of the building and into his transport with
the Director by his side, heading for the plant, both of them sitting in almost silence
inside the transport pod till they eventually arrived at the complex. From the urgency in
her voice earlier, this was definitely not a date.
The security guard on duty spotted Jason as they approached the complex, and opened
the gates without question. They then drove through the one-way system to the
administration building, and stopped, parking in the totally empty parking area. None of
the admin people worked the shift patterns, so there should be no one there.
They parked up, and entered the admin complex, to be met by another guard seated
behind a large semicircular dais, the other side of some strong plate glass doors.
This guard also recognised Jason, and electronically opened the inner doors for him
and his guest.
They entered the lift, and it seemed to take forever to get to the floor of Jasons office,
and as the doors of the lift opened, they could both see this strange glow coming from the
direction of Jasons office.
The night man had been correct in his observations, there was an eerie glow coming
from somewhere inside the area of Jasons inner office, the glow visible through a small
window, high on the wall. A bright blue-white colour.
This looks like its going to be another long day, he thought as they entered the outer
general office.

CHAPTER TEN
The two of them entered the outer office area slowly and in silence, as the whole area
was silent, something Jason found strange as normally this area would be teaming with
activity from the girls who handled the data processing, the staff whose job it was to chat
away through their headsets to both the information providers and the customers.
This room was normally a hive of activity, and to see it silent like this was perhaps a
little unnerving, given the circumstances.
This blue-white glow was definitely coming from somewhere within the inner office,
and, as Jason took out his key card and unlocked and opened the door; they saw that the
report from the night watchman had been correct.
The safe, bolted to the floor and rear wall, stood more or less central on the back wall
of the office, with two metal secure filing cabinets, one each side of it taking up most of
the space along that section of the wall. All three of these metal objects were glowing
brightly, like an energy saving bulb. Lots of light coming from it, but it was not creating
any heat.

The two of them stood in the doorway for a few seconds, looking at what they could
see, trying to take in what they could only guess was actually happening.
Jason approached the safe, it still glowed very brightly, but there was still no heat
radiating from it, and he placed his key card onto the keypad. The door swung open.
This glow effect did not affect the integrity of the metal; his safe was still a solid metal
object, one of the best money could buy, made from recycled metal of course, but still
this light shone through from inside as if it were transparent! To do this, the photon
particles or whatever particles they were that produced the glow would have to be really
small, smaller than the ions that made up the metal of the safe. Photons could not get
through a gap so small.
Jason removed one of the artefact pieces from the plastic box in the safe. The room
plunged into darkness. This fluorescence ceased immediately.
Putting on the normal office lights, both he and the Director, took up positions on
either side of the layout table, where he placed this piece taken from the safe, the small
one that had been found earlier in the evening, and responsible for loss of life.
The Director had not seen this one before, so she picked it up, turning it over and over,
and gave it a thorough visual examination before asking Jason to bring out another piece,
preferably the second sample found. He did so without comment.
She moved the two pieces around each other, as if she was attempting one of those
three dimensional jigsaw puzzles, putting them in different patterns of layouts. Nothing.
Did these fit together? If so how and why? What did they do, and what were they for?
She tried the combinations again, this time with all three pieces, and, other than a dull
blue glow, gradually getting brighter, they didnt seem to be related in any way she could
determine.
With all three pieces now stored in three different locations within his office, Jason
locked them up till the meeting this evening.
He slept, as did the Director, in his office, just in case.

CHAPTER ELEVEN
The guests and experts were all gathering in a part of the factory that was used for
seminars and inductions. Tonight, it was to be a lecture theatre, and the seating had been
arranged accordingly, rising from front to back.
Jason had been there an hour early, with the Director, both having been back to their
respective rooms to shower and change, and be collected ready for the meeting.
The three artefacts were placed on a table in the centre of the stage area, with as much
distance between each of them that the table allowed. Nevertheless, there was still a very
slight glow, barely noticeable by any of the audience with the strong bright fluorescent
lighting of the auditorium, and judging by the guests chatter, which was as ambient as it
always was, gave an indication that, to them, nothing seemed out of place as they made
their way to the allocated seat numbers given to them earlier at the reception.
The Director, seated there alone, and commanding respect, occupied the stage.
She had dressed in a formal two-piece suit, black tights, and black dress shoes so as to
give the corporate image she needed to project which would allow her to keep control
when the proceedings started, and the questions without answers that would fly thick and
heavy, later in the presentation.

She glanced at Tony, who was standing in the wings, and smiled. She knew that he
would be the protector of these three pieces, and her from a mob if it got rowdy, a
possibility if the audience felt in any way threatened by these three items.
The allotted time for the presentation arrived, the lights dimmed a little, though not
enough for the assembled think tank to see the objects on the table starting to glow, and
the Director walked across to the podium. She welcomed the honoured guests, and the
many experts within this gathering, thanking them for their attendance, and hopefully
their input into this unusual investigation. She started to explain,
As my learned friends already know, to call a meeting of minds like this is very rare,
and usually for a very important reason,
A murmur of agreement went around the room like a Chinese whisper. She continued.
It is also very rare that we would assemble in a plant such as this, a little giggle went
around the room, But this ladies and gentlemen, is ground zero. This is where it is
happening. Not thousands of years ago, but right here, right now.
A buzz, much louder than before was heard throughout the room, as the questions were
being compiled already. Time to put them out of their misery.
In this plant, over a period of a few months, artefacts of a different type have been
turning up. These metal items cannot be identified by any of the electronic processes here
at the plant, and have survived severe crushing and splitting processes, without harm. We
can only assume this as we have no knowledge of what they are supposed to look like,
she signalled to Tony to walk to the table,
For those of you who do not know this gentleman here, he is the Head of Security for
the whole of the plant functions on G18, and it has been his responsibility to look after
these pieces for us until we could take over their care, and analyse them properly.
Tony nodded to the audience and received a small ripple of applause. The Director
carried on,
There are three of these artefacts found so far, and they all have unusual properties,
Tony held the largest one up for the crowd to see,
When an electric current is passed through any metal or alloy, the metal should offer
some sort of resistance, this measurement would then be used here in the plant to identify
that metal or alloy. However, these items, when a current of electricity is applied, offer a
negative resistance, this creating the effect of accelerating the current through it.
Once again, the occupants of the room started to become more vocal in their murmurs
of disbelief and even more questions were being formulated.
I know that this principle in the known laws of physics is impossible, and we must
have made a mistake. Believe me, we have not, and it has cost the lives of three men up
to now proving that this is what is happening.
The place went quiet.
These items possess another, equally remarkable property. They seem to have the
ability to absorb electricity from anywhere they can, the air, static or otherwise, which
makes them luminescence with a bright blue colour.
The theatre lights were dimmed further down so the glow from the piece that Tony was
holding could be seen clearly by the audience,
And, if they are used together, it amplifies the glow many, many times.
Tony picked up a second piece and brought it close to the first. The glow intensified to
that of a light bulb.
This, ladies and gentlemen, is why we are here. To seek the answers of not only why
and how these things do what they do, but, and this is more important, what do they do it
for?

As the subject matter of this meeting will have come as a surprise to you all, and
because you all need to see these items close up, touch them, feel them, I have decided to
invite each and every one of you to come up, one by one, to briefly examine one of these
items at first hand, and then go away and think your best reasons why you think these
exist, and for what purpose. We will reconvene tomorrow evening for that discussion.
The whole audience were now on their feet and filing to the stairs leading up to the
stage. Tony placed the second piece back into the plastic box, and closed the lid, the box
then going into the large bag he had brought for that purpose. It was divided into separate
compartments to keep the glow to a minimum.
He took his seat at the table, handing the long, decorative pipe designed item to each
of the eager passing scientists, each person wanting to hold it for as long as possible,
commenting on the lack of weight in such a decorative piece, till the others further back
in the queue started complaining that it would be daylight before they had a chance to see
it.
For the next ninety minutes or so, Tony handed the item over, and took it back, over
and over again, hearing the same comments from each of them in turn. The Director was
standing alongside him, answering the technical questions from these experts as best she
could on the knowledge gleaned so far.
Eventually, as the last of the experts left the hall, and into their transports, Tony placed
the item into its plastic box, and into the sectioned bag to transport back to his office.
Their little secret was out now, and he would have to be on the ball for the next few
days to protect these little treasures of his.
At long last, he was back in his office, the boxes placed in his safe, and the alarms set
till he collected them tomorrow, and to hand them over officially.
Tomorrow should be fun.

CHAPTER TWELVE
His communicator continuously ringing awakened Tony. He looked at the bedside
clock. It was 04.30, and for the second time in three days, he was unable to get a full
eight hours, in a proper bed.
He grabbed the phone, and answered it. Again it was the plant security, and again it
was his office, but this time his safe had been broken into.
Wishing he had never met those three little items, as they were now becoming a trouble
to him, and also to a lot of other people too, he got dressed, and then drove to the plant.
No doubt the Director would already be there, probably phoned out before he was, full of
questions about security, or the lack of it.
He arrived at the plant and made his way up to the office, and, sure enough, the
Director was waiting for him to arrive. He expected fire and brimstone from her, but
received only a quiet greeting. They listened to the security guards report of the events.
The guard had heard the alarm for this sector of the building go off, but when he
looked at the board, it was showing green lights all the way, so he assumed it was a
hiccup in the system, and reset the sensors. After a few minutes, the alarm blipped again
for only a second, but the master control board still showed a green light for the offices
on that floor.
He made a note on his paper report to have the electronics tested on those circuits in
the morning by maintenance, but to be on the safe side; hed better have a wander up to
make sure a window wasnt left open, and leaves or paper hadnt been blown in and
tripped the sensors.

It was as he approached the office; he saw the door was open, and the inner one too,
the safe door also hanging open. The thick metal door hadnt been forced, so a coded key
card must have been used on the keypad to open it, therefore not triggering any of the
safe alarms into action. The office doors had not been forced either, so whoever it was
knew exactly what they were doing, and had the correct passkey cards.
They knew exactly what they were after said Tony.
He turned to the security guard and asked
When the alarm bleeped, just the once, which individual alarm was it?
The guard thought for a moment and replied, The next office along, that way, and
pointed to the left along the corridor.
Tony ran to the office next door, and the door was closed, but had been left unlocked.
He entered, and switched on the lights. Sure enough, a window was left open, this
window leading out to a fire escape. These thieves knew exactly what they were doing.
This had to be an inside job.
He returned to his office, and explained what he thought had happened, working on the
evidence found, little though it was.
When the thief or thieves had seen the three items displayed at the meeting earlier in
the evening, they must have called a number of buyers very quickly indeed, and been
offered a really good price for the goods, if they could steal them. They didnt need to
understand the technology of it all; they just listened to the boffins discussing amazing
powers, and other exaggerations. If these thieves got the items off the plant, they would
never be seen again, becoming part of some private collection, and a loss to science.
The Director was not angry but more frustrated, like the feeling after a burglary in your
personal space, instead of a huge metal processing plant. The whole talk last evening was
now a waste of time, and by the morning, she would have to inform the many experts
assembled for this seminar that the investigations could no longer go on, and why.
Tonys communicator rang. As he took it from his belt, he wondered what else could
go wrong and ruin a day that hadnt even started.
He listened quietly to the voice on the other end of the phone, a quizzical look on his
face, then a little smile. He ended the call. He looked at the Director,
You might want to come along with me on this one.

CHAPTER THIRTEEN
Tony pulled up his transport just outside one of the outer sorting plants, near to the
power generators and switching stations that produced and distributed all of the power for
the sorting plants. A security car, complete with the obligatory orange flashing lights was
parked at the side of the road, and an ambulance stood a little further along. Something
was covered by a blanket along the side of the transformer house, on appeared to be on a
stretcher. At first glance, the Director thought this was some sort of traffic accident. Tony
spoke to the security, and asked him for his report, so the Director could hear it all. The
guard began,
I was doing my rounds, as usual, when I saw what looked like lightning coming from
down here, more or less around the back of this transformer house. Thinking it could be a
short in the power lines, and would need reporting to Safety, I came straight down to
investigate, and thats when I found him,
He pointed to this blanket on the stretcher,

Fried to a crisp he is, so I thought Id better check for identification to see which one
of the plant staff it was, but I couldnt find any on him, so I cannot notify the staff office
who it was that was involved in this accident.
Tony bent down and pulled back the sheet covering this body. In the light of daybreak,
he could see it was a man, but, as the guard had said, he was burned to a crisp, his body
twisted into a foetal position, as all of the water must have evaporated out of him in less
than a second. This would need more heat than that of an electric arc in such a short time.
This rang an alarm bell in Tonys head.
What if the lightning bolt had been amplified?
He immediately started to look about the grass and shrubs in the vicinity of the body,
searching for a feint blue glow. He saw one. It was the middle size item.
Using that as a finder, and as quickly as he could before the sunlight made it difficult to
detect, he combed the soil and undergrowth, using the item already found to search for
any indication that another was near. It was like the old game of getting warmer when
you get nearer the hidden play object, or colder as you move away.
The Director understood what he was doing, and kept the other people away from his
search so as not to push one of the items deep into the soft soil.
He found the remnants of his bag, the bottom, and most of the sides blown out and
melted, and from there, tried to work out the direction and possible distance the other
items could travel.
For half an hour, he painstakingly checked every centimetre of the ground, finding the
smallest piece first under a bush, and finally the long piece a few feet away from that, in
the flowerbed. He had all three of them now, and these had to be returned to a safe
position, under lock and key till later in the day. This time the safe would be manually
guarded throughout.
In the meantime, the body was taken, in the ambulance to the mortuary, for further
examination.
As the two of them sat in his office, there were still some unanswered questions to all
of this.
First, the identity of the thief, and how did he receive his intelligence about the
whereabouts of the items. This security leak had to be found and stopped before any more
thefts could be organised. If the plant had a mole, it was time for a hunt.
Second, and perhaps the most puzzling occurrence was, why did the thief die the way
he did? The Director answered that one,
You remember you told me when I first arrived that only a couple of days before a
man had died retrieving an item from the crushers, and subsequently his two rope men
later in hospital?
Tony nodded,
You also told me the man was alive and well till he passed the power switching
boards.
Tony nodded again,
Well, our thief died outside of a substation, which would have an enormous amount of
electricity flowing through it. It was because he had all three pieces in close proximity to
each other that they were able to attract a massive current right through the walls of the
switching house without making a hole, and it literally cooked him. Once the items blew
apart, they went cold immediately, and stopped glowing.
Tony nodded again; so far this was plausible enough,
In my address to the science community last night, I never mentioned that the three
items had to be kept apart because they attracted electricity, that was one of the properties
we had not proved, and did not yet fully understand. Whoever organised the theft was

totally unaware of the dangers with these items, with the consequences we now have. I
think they will know now.
This was going to be another long day. The Director went back to her hotel, and Tony
returned to his house. A guard was put on the office safe, and Tony himself would take
over after hed had a chance of some sleep, and a change of clothes. With a bit of luck,
the second meeting will take place in the lecture theatre tonight, the boffins, and the
Director, will take the items away, and he will be rid of them for good.
That thought ran through his head as he drifted off to sleep.

CHAPTER FOURTEEN
Tony awoke refreshed, and well rested, there hasnt been a lot of that happening lately,
and walked to his little kitchen, making himself a coffee. Nothing would be done until
hes had his coffee. He looked at the clock. Midday. No rush yet he thought.
He picked up his communicator, and pressed for the security office at the plant for an
update on any developments that had taken place since they had left earlier in the day.
The chief security guard was able to give him a little information, in that, the burglar had
been identified, and was not one of the plant workers. He was a known thief, making his
living by stealing to order whatever he could sell quickly. Tony had hoped it had been a
plant worker, because now, the mole was still alive somewhere inside the plant and would
be still active.
The identity of the informant, the mole, was as yet unknown, but discreet enquiries
were being made by the security staff, and they think they have narrowed it down to one
of two people, and expect a result by late afternoon.
Tony thanked the chief for the update, rang off, and showered, shaved, changed, and
made his way to the plant. He was to relieve the armed guard on his safe in his office at
1pm, and he wanted to check around the rest of the plant that everything else was OK
before making himself prisoner in his own office. The plant was going about its business
as usual.
He replaced the guard, who had been sitting in his chair, something Tony would never
normally allow, but under the circumstances, it meant whoever tried to reach the safe had
to go through the guard to get there.
He had about six hours to kill before he needed to unlock the safe and take out the
items, ready to transport to the next meeting, but, to be on the safe side, hed open it now
to make sure they were still there, a fact he more or less knew, as the safe had a feint
blue-white glow. All three were there, all partitioned, and all quiet.
The next three hours were used just catching up the normal run of the mill paperwork
that had been piled up on his desk, his time being used up elsewhere, and he was able to
bring himself more or less up to date with all of the processing input/output figures, and
then the huge shuttle crafts organised to take the prepared scrap to G17 for recycling, and
the extremely dangerous or toxic cargos, plus any radioactive materials straight to the
automated destruction plant on G16.
He was quite pleased with himself at the workload he had actually managed to clear,
when the door opened, and in walked the Director, dressed in her corporate clothing,
ready for the next meeting in just a few short hours away. She smiled.
Any news on the thief, or details on how he got his information?
Tony told her the details of the last report he had heard at about 12.30pm, and, perhaps
it would be a good time to ring the security desk, for any update on the situation.

He rang the security office again, and spoke to the chief who informed him that they
had their mole, and he had admitted it. He was currently in custody awaiting the police
coming to collect him.
They had found out that he was working alone, so no loose ends there, and had been
offered 35 thousand for these three pieces of artefact by a criminal operating inside the
town. They had a name, but no proof. Without the proof, this mastermind would just
recruit another pawn in the plant, and the whole thing would start all over again.
Tony thought to himself, Why is it vermin cannot be totally eradicated. There is
always one, then two, and so on.
When he updated the Director, she agreed, adding that this applied to all walks of life,
anywhere and at any time. A fact of life.
Tony phoned out to the general office, and asked for two cups of coffee to be brought
in for them, while they chatted, small talk in the main, waiting out the time till the
meeting. He expressed his relief that these items would be finally leaving his care, and
going to a new home where they can be poked, prodded, or whatever else the scientists
would be able to do to identify their structure, and hopefully, their use.
The Director also thought that it would be a relief to pass them on to the first of the
study groups who were ready to start the analysis as soon as tomorrow.
By 5pm, Tony and the Director sounded like old friends, chatting away, and passing
the time in good company. The outer office staff had all called in to say goodnight, and
had left to go home, the cleaners had been around, emptied the bins, swept and vacuumed
the carpets, dusted a bit here and there, and away to the next office. By 5.15pm they were
alone.
They both started to detect a strange sort of buzzing in their ears, and a feeling of
nausea, like the prologue to passing out. They looked at each other, confirming the
feelings, and Tony immediately suspecting that another break-in was imminent, possibly
the coffee had been drugged. He felt a fool; hed let his guard down for only a moment.
They could still speak, but only quietly, a croaking whisper really, and had both lost the
use of their limbs. These thieves are getting more and more hi-tec as their timing was
perfect. They waited, and watched for the door to open.
The Director, who could see passed where Tony was sitting, said in a whisper,
Those things are glowing again, the safe and the cabinets are bright, and getting
brighter.

CHAPTER FIFTEEN
The two of them sat, unable to move, as if glued to their seats and not able to make
much of a sound either. All they could do was watch and wait as the glow intensified
from the safe. This time the glow reached a real brightness, then started to pulse, a fairly
quick pulsation, but not a deep one, the glow only slightly diminishing then back up to
full power. There was no sound from anywhere in the office complex, other than the
laboured breathing of the two of them.
So this is how it ends, thought Tony.
Yes, this is the end, but not the end of you, a voice sounded from nowhere, But of
this incident, it has to end now.

Tony looked at the Director, and she was looking at him.

Did you hear that? he asked the Director. She replied,
Yes, but I do not think I heard it with my ears. It seems to be in my head.
The two of them sat there, fearing the worst. These thieves were good.
We are not thieves, this detached voice in their heads said, We have merely come to
retrieve what is ours, and what we have misplaced.
The voice went on, I will explain.
Both Tony and the Director were by now giving this there 100% attention neither had
any idea what was to come next.
We are what you would call, in simple terms, aliens. We do exist, but it was many
millions of your years ago when we occupied this area of space, and have progressively
moved outwards beyond your known universe since then, something your race is just
starting to do, judging by your beginnings.
We did exactly as you are doing, we cleaned up after ourselves totally, as some of our
technology, even back in that time period, would have been totally mind-blowing to any
primitive race, such as yours. I do not say this as an insult, only as a fact.
We assumed, erroneously, that we had gleaned it all from where we had colonised in
the past, but it appears we missed some of it, and these pieces are not compatible with
your own technology, in fact they are in conflict with it, and therefore dangerous to both
you, as these can kill you and us, because you would discover we exist.
The danger to us then would be, because you would now have your proof that other
life-forms either currently exist, or have existed in the past, you would come looking for
us. This is something we have tried to cover up a long time ago, so as not to leave a trail,
for our own safety. We have, to our detriment, been followed before by other races too, so
we decided to go as far as our technology would take us, till we were able to be too far
away to be detected, and therefore safe.
The danger to you is with the cross technology between the two races. We do not
generate electricity as you do for power, and light. We use devices made of an alloy that
draw the raw energy from the Universe, and convert it into a usable energy source for our
equipment. The three items you posses are part of one such device, a communications
device to be exact.
Tony now had the answer as to what these items were for, for what good that
information would do him at this moment. The voice continued,
The electromagnetic fields surrounding your power generating or distribution
networks triggers the devices to begin to absorb the, and I have no word in your language
for this, the Pio waves, waves of a extremely short wavelength. Waves that can pass
through all of your solid objects. I believe you understand a sister particle form of these
waves, though in a solid form you can relate to. You call them Neutrinos, and the power
source we use, you call dark matter.
Tony looked at the Director in a questioning look, as this was way over his head and in
her field of expertise. She nodded, and whispered, Yes.
The voice once again took up the narrative,
These items of ours that you posses are extremely dangerous in your environment. We
have already collected the fourth part of the whole communicator on our way here, and
we are here to reclaim the other three. We must take them to safety, with or without your
consent. This is extremely important that we do so.
The Director replied, in a hushed voice, and with difficulty,
If you take these items from us, then what do we tell the scientific community
gathered here to examine these pieces. It would either prove the two of us to be mentally

deficient, or that you exist, and I assume you want neither of these outcomes. If you take
the items, then it will be one or the other.
We have thought of that in our planning, continued the voice, and have a solution
which will save you from embarrassment, and us from exposure.
We knew when we first received the signal from this communications device that it
had been exposed to a manufactured electron radiation source, and it had to have been
created by another unknown intelligent life-form, unknown to us that is. We were as
unaware of your existence as you were, up till now, of ours,
We knew that these energy generations would trigger the collectors in the pieces to act
like something you call an accumulator, where it can charge and discharge rapidly as
needed. However, over a period of time, the pieces would gather enough charge in each
piece to be fatal to any life form that was anywhere near to it.
Tony explained the four lives lost so far, and the circumstances.
The voice began again,
It has never been our intention to harm another being, and for what has already
happened, we are very sorry as part of our scrap could have caused this, but that is why
we must remove these items from this planet before more of your people lose their life
because of our mistake. It would be remiss of us to do otherwise.
Once again the Director spoke.
But how would I explain that these items, shown to everyone here yesterday, and due
on display again today, have vanished. I cannot say they were taken by their owners, who
just happen to be aliens, can I?
After a short pause, a strange multicoloured vortex, about 12 inches tall, appeared just
above Tonys desk, spiralling like a mini tornado. As they watched, three items of metal
fell out of it and onto the desk in front of them.
These are perfect replicas of the items you possess, and are made of an alloy metal
that will keep your scientist busy for months trying to identify the metal they are made
from. They will eventually work it out, but it will take a long time. These however, are
not dangerous in any way.
As to the originals, they will go with us. It has been pleasantly different to
communicate with another race that, until recently, we knew nothing about. This will be
our last communication with your race, as if we tell our people, we will be ridiculed, and
I assume the same will apply to you.
Perhaps it will be better if we bid you goodbye, and leave it that way.
The vortex moved over and took up a position just above the safe. The three items
passed through the metal walls of the safe as if they were not there, and slipped into the
vortex, which promptly disappeared.
At the same time, whatever had been restraining Tony and the Director stopped, and
everything, including the darker lighting of the room returned to normal.
He looked at the clock on the wall.
It read 5.16pm, this whole thing had happened in only seconds.
On his desk in front of him lay the three items identical to those that had been stored in
his safe, and on checking the safe; it was empty except for the compartmentalised bag.
It had not been a dream.
Had they really seen and heard what they seem to have seen and heard.
For the next two hours, the conversation between Tony and the Director, held in his
office, was intense.

CHAPTER SIXTEEN
The auditorium was full to capacity, as all of the scientific community had gathered to
formulate the way forward to start the investigations of these artefacts, which they had
now become called, again.
Tony stood in the wings, once again, as the Director explained a rota system of
laboratories for the examination of these particular artefacts of history, starting with the
metallurgy study, as their findings would go a long way to helping the recycling plants
identify this material should it ever come through the system again.
I doubt it very much, thought Tony, as he watched the faces of the audience. It was
like watching school kids being told that the ice cream was free, that innocent look of
excited anticipation on every face he could see.
The two of them had decided, while in Tonys office, that it would be better for all
concerned to make no reference at all about the other, alien race that had contacted them,
because, as everybody knew, aliens do not, and never have existed otherwise we would
have found some trace or another. They had gone with the supplied dummy artefacts
passing them off as being the real ones, the glowing having ceased, assuming that they
had ran out of whatever charge they had used previously. Some of the boffins would now
spend months trying to work that one out.
The whole incident, with the passage of time, would be consigned to the history books,
the plant would get its new code numbers, and everything would return to normal.
Not quite.
After the meeting, Tony had a hot date with a certain Director, and this was to be a
perfect end to a perfect investigation.
They would both sleep on it, together.

John Baxter 2012.