“Thank you for coming,” the president said. “I hope you had a good flight.”
“Great,” Charley said. She still had one of Amanda’s hands in hers as they sat side by side on a couch.
“The shuttle from the starship left orbit twenty minutes ago.” The president looked at his watch. “They think it will be here in forty-nine minutes.”
Everyone nodded.
“I have a request,” Amanda’s grandfather continued. “Could one of you folks lower that big saucer to the ground?”
Uncle Egg said, “Sure. I can do that. I want to be close enough to watch it, though.”
“If you would, please. Hennessey, would you escort him out and back?”
“Yes, sir. This way, Mr. Cantrell.”
After they were gone, the president asked Rip and Charley, “Did you folks put that damn thing up there?”
“No,” Rip replied. “Adam Solo did. He thought it would be a nice diversion. Give everyone something to think about besides us.”
The president sighed and leaned back in his chair. “He was certainly right about that. Sorry he’s no longer with us.”
“He was ready to go, I think,” Charley said softly, and smiled at Amanda, who grinned right back. Charley Pine had been a rock star with Amanda ever since she gave her a saucer ride.
“What I’d like,” the child whispered to Charley, “is to fly up to see the starship. Can you help with that?”
“I don’t know,” Charley said. “Let’s wait and see what happens. If things go okay, I’ll ask for both of us.”
“Totally cool.” Amanda beamed at her grandfather and Rip. No two ways about it: She felt fine.
The president, however, was getting fidgety. He asked Rip, “So what do you think? Is this starship in orbit an Imperial Battle Cruiser? Are we going to be entertaining a bunch of Klingons here in a bit?”
Rip grinned. “I doubt if these people are Klingons. Adam Solo was an acute observer, a natural leader, a warrior and a survivor if ever there was one. If this starship crew is anything like him, they are basically good people.”
“People like us?”
“Forget good, which is a value judgment,” Rip said. “The fact is those saucers’ computers recognize our thoughts. The computers were built by people with brains like ours or that feat would be impossible. These folks communicate by telepathy, which also would be impossible if their brains were significantly different. They are probably as far in the technological future from us as we are from Julius Caesar. Still, I don’t think you’ll find them hard to deal with. Be reasonable, and when you must, take no for an answer. After all, this isn’t their first visit. Nor, probably, their tenth.”
“What was Solo doing here on this planet anyway?”
“Food,” Rip said flatly. “Finding ways to genetically engineer new food sources is the only real payoff for the tremendous costs involved in space exploration. They certainly weren’t going to take tons of ore or rare metals into orbit and transport them to another star system. That would be impractical.
“No, Solo was undoubtedly here to collect DNA samples from every living plant and animal he could find. Learning how living creatures that had evolved elsewhere solved the basic functions of life was the goal. Heck, scientists on earth are genetically engineering crops, which are the key to mankind’s future. But Solo was also a librarian. These guys use the living creatures of earth as a giant DNA library.”
The president was horrified. “You mean they put their DNA in us?”
A thoughtful look crossed Rip’s face. “I doubt if it’s their genome. Our researchers are already storing digital data on DNA, then reading the code with lasers and reconverting it to digital computer code. Think about it: If you have a tremendous amount of critical scientific data acquired at great cost or historical data that you don’t want to lose, where would you store it?”
The president look skeptical.
“A star can explode,” Rip continued, “a planet can be destroyed by an asteroid impact, nuclear war could break out … so you convert the records you want to preserve into DNA and insert it into living species on a variety of planets in different solar systems. The creatures that carry it will be unaffected, and they will pass the coded DNA on to their descendants. The data would deteriorate at a very slow, known rate, which is basically the speed that DNA evolves under radiation.
“One of Solo’s tasks was to check on the species carrying code and perhaps insert new code or read old code.”
The president remained silent for almost a minute. Then he said, “Why was Solo stranded?”
“One of his shipmates went nuts and stole their saucer. It had been a hard, difficult voyage. Think of the ancient Polynesians sailing across the Pacific looking for islands. We’ll never know how many set out and died at sea.” Rip shrugged. “I think the other castaways with Solo died or were killed soon afterward. Solo was alone, marooned like Robinson Crusoe, on this planet. This ‘savage planet,’ he called it.’
“Is Earth still their DNA sample lab and library?”
“Of course. As for storing data, perhaps they didn’t store it in the people of earth. Or perhaps not only in people. Other mammals and birds and reptiles could be carriers. One suspects the DNA is in a large number of species to ensure valuable records and data will survive if individual species become extinct. That is the most cost-effective approach, of course, the one with the highest probability of success.”
That was a lot for the president to digest. He glanced at Charley Pine, whose face showed no emotion, then scrutinized Rip’s innocent visage.
After a moment he said, “I’m going to ask the aliens to take both these saucers with them.”
Rip’s and Charley’s eyes met. “We sorta figured that,” Rip said. “They’ve caused a lot of trouble, and yet mankind is better off because we had them for a little while.”
The president didn’t want to argue. In his opinion the verdict wasn’t in on the saucers. Yes, the technology was revitalizing industry, stimulating research, innovation and investment that was leading to millions of new jobs and a new prosperity here and around the globe, but this Fountain of Youth medical stuff had him worried. For the past ten days he’d felt as if he were sitting on a volcano of public and political pressure that threatened to destroy all that had been gained. Now there was the secret DNA library. If the public got wind of that there would be hell to pay.
A loud round of applause sounded outside. The president’s television depicted the Roswell saucer slowly descending with its landing gear out.
“Come on,” Charley said to Amanda. “Let’s give your friends a saucer tour.”
When they were alone, the president said to Rip, “You’re a pretty bright young man.”
“I get by,” Rip acknowledged without a trace of modesty.
That didn’t bother the president, who also had a high opinion of his own abilities. He asked, “What are you going to do with your life, after this?”
Rip sighed. “Darn if I know.”
When the Roswell saucer was on the ground, Uncle Egg said to Petty Officer Hennessey, “Want to climb inside with me? I want to check out the condition of the ship.”
“Sure,” Hennessey said brightly. Man, this navy gig is looking up. A flying saucer, no less.
They climbed inside, and Egg sat in the pilot’s seat and donned the headband. Soon he had the computer probing the health of every system. Yes, as Solo said, the communications equipment was kaput, as was one of the computers. The other two seemed to be functioning normally, however, and the engineering checks seemed fine.