Winter World (The Long Winter #1)(51)

The drone flies closer, moving at a slight angle, not on a direct intercept. The image zooms in. The edges of the artifact come into focus.

My mouth drops open. My heart races. It’s not a circle. It’s a hexagon. A giant hexagon. The implications hit me like a sledgehammer. My head almost spins.

Emma notices. With her eyes, she silently says, What is it?

I shake my head subtly, hoping the others haven’t seen.

The drone closes the distance. The sun illuminates Beta’s surface. It shimmers, like a lake at sunrise. It’s a dull reflection, like a sea of obsidian bound by the hexagonal border. There are no lines, no protrusions.

I think I know what comes next. But I dread seeing it. I dread being right.

The drone slips past the artifact. The video freezes at the moment it passes. A still image remains on the screen, showing a clear side view of the artifact. At the drone’s distance, it looks wafer thin. A sail drifting toward the sun. The drone estimates the depth at three meters. I feel my stomach drop. I have to focus.

The shape is the key to understanding it. A hexagon. The shape occurs in nature for good reason. A bee’s honeycomb. The eyes of a fly. Soap bubbles.

Why a hexagon and not a circle?

Hexagons fit together.

That is the conclusion.

What it means for humanity, I’m not certain yet. But I have a hypothesis. And it’s not good.

The screen snaps back to video mode, showing the back of the artifact. There are no markings here either, simply another dark pool, this one with no sunlight dully reflected. It would be almost invisible against the black of space if not for the sunlight illuminating its edges, outlining it.

Data scrolls on the screen. Lina narrates.

“Tests for emissions are all negative. It’s like us. Running dark.”

When the video ends, Min says, “Let’s talk about what this means.”

I’m only vaguely aware of the debate raging. Grigory asks whether it might be alive—like some giant space insect. Min suggests it might be a piece of a ship that has broken off. Charlotte insists that it can communicate and that it is therefore intelligent, no matter what it is.

I’m so deep in thought, I barely hear my name, once, then again, Min calling me. “James. James.”

“Yeah. I’m here.”

“Well, what do you think?”

“I think… I need some time to think.”

A long pause.

Harry: “Me too. Actually, that’s probably a good idea for all of us.”





Back in the lab, Emma corners me. “You know something.”

“Maybe. I don’t know.”

“James. Tell me.”

I can’t tell her. Not until I’m sure.

“We need more data.”





We get more data ten hours later. Fourteen hours ahead of schedule. It confirms my worst fears.

“The scout drone has returned from the artifact,” Min says, his expression stoic. “The comm drone that exchanged the Fibonacci numbers with the artifact is non-responsive.”

“A malfunction?” Charlotte asks.

“Possible,” Harry says quietly.

“Scout drone is early,” Grigory says, cutting to the chase.

Min nods. “Yes. It was on its way to Beta when it found the comm drone, adrift.”

“Timeline?” Grigory asks.

Min raises his eyebrows.

“When did it…” Grigory seems to rifle through several word choices. “Become inactive?”

Min glances at his tablet. “Right after it made first contact.”

I swallow hard but try not to show any emotion. I feel the way I did that day in court, when I stood and heard the judge sentence me to life in prison without the possibility of parole. Except I’m not the only one getting a bad rap now. It’s the whole human race, whose major crime, it would seem, is being born on the wrong planet at the wrong time.

Grigory is more to the point now.

“Artifact attacked it. Just like probe.”

“It could have malfunctioned,” Lina says carefully.

“We should have been there,” says Charlotte.

Emma reacts quickly, and I’m glad.

“I think we should talk about what we’re going to do now.”

“I agree,” says Min.

Everyone looks at me.

“We need to get the comm drone back,” I say. “Quickly. And figure out what happened.”





Chapter 31





Emma





James knows something. And he’s not telling us.

For a good portion of this trip, I’ve been furious at him for sharing his thoughts—mostly on my health. Now I’m furious because he won’t share his thoughts. It’s driving me nuts. I can’t help him if he won’t talk to me. Ever since we got the video footage from the observation drone, it’s like he’s carrying the burden of the whole world.

The drone fleet was launched with a specific plan: observation first, contact second, and if that fails, intervention. But it’s not certain that contact has failed. It could be a technical issue on our end.

At our next meeting in the bubble, Grigory advocates following the plan and sending in the drones with rail guns. Charlotte is naturally against this idea. So am I. Lina is against, as is Izumi. Min favors moving the intervention drones into position but waiting.