“General Gant here,” boomed the General looking at an ARRG Sergeant on his phone screen. The General had just been briefed on the latest hunt on Martha’s Vineyard and was waiting for this call.

  “Sir, Sergeant Todd from the Boston ARRG team,” replied a nervous Sergeant Todd. Standing next to him was the Pom Pom looking alien who had surrendered next to Janice, the firefighter. She crouched down so her eyes could be the same height as the alien’s.

  “Ah, yes,” said General Gant, “I have reports in front of me telling us you achieved another wipe out. Excellent work.”

  “Thank you, General,” said Todd, “But we have a little situation here. Let me show you.”

  Todd turned his phone to point at the alien and Janice.

  “What the hell?” said the General.

  “He surrendered. So we accepted the surrender and covered up it’s defection from the Hunter Security team,” said Todd as he moved the phone to show his nervous visage.

  “Hmmm,” said the General sternly, “What are you going to do with it?”

  “Me, Sir?” said a surprised Sergeant Todd, “I’m from ARRG. Our job is to ‘make the FOP go ARRG’ Sir.”

  General Gant mumbled something indistinct along the lines of ‘Bloody Aussies’ and then looked back at Sergeant Todd, “That’s a good idea. The Aussies.”

  Sergeant Todd blinked, “The Aussies? Sir?”

  General Gant ignored the question and asked, “Sergeant. Who is that firefighter with the alien?”

  Sergeant Todd stepped to Janice and included her in the video call. Janice said, “Janice Henderson. I’m a local firefighter. I sort of, um, discovered Pommy here?”

  “Pommy?” asked the General, “Have you named it?”

  “She,” said Janice, “Pommy is a she. We have been chatting and getting on pretty well.”

  “Are you qualified to talk with aliens?” asked General Gant gruffly.

  “I have a degree in linguistics and sociology and have been a volunteer firefighter for years,” replied Janice, “Besides, I don’t think there are any courses in alien psychology.”

  Pleased with her ability to stand up for herself, the General looked at Janice and the alien - Pommy - and asked, “Mrs Henderson, are you busy?”

  “Not really, General,” replied Janice, “And it’s Miss, actually.”

  “Interested in going on a trip?” said the General, beckoning to an assistant off screen.

  ****

  Father Pacioli waited with Major Tierney and a squad of ARRG troopers at the military airport that had been constructed at the growing Canungra army base. They enjoyed the air conditioned waiting area as long as they could to escape the humid Summer’s day. A US military plane landed and a squad of US ARRG troopers disembarked, accompanying a lady and an alien.

  “That would be the surrendered prisoner of war,” said Major Tierney needlessly. It wasn’t as if the pom pom creature could be anyone else.

  “Pommy,” said Father Pacioli, “Miss Henderson told us her name was Pommy. Let’s meet our guests.”

  “Also,” added the Padre, “I think it’s more like Sanctuary. Are we at war? The Federation has made absolutely no attempt at communication. Can it be considered a war if only one side thinks it is?”

  “We really need to come to terms with what this is, I suppose,” said Major Tierney, “Now we have some representatives of the Federation under our care, we should have a chat, eh?”

  They stopped in front of the arriving delegation and smiled.

  The ARRG troopers all nodded their greetings to their fellow soldiers as they approached.

  “Gedday,” said Trooper Phil, “Glad you could make it back.”

  Sergeant Todd nodded, gestured towards Janice and Pommy, “Good to be back. This time we’re delivering a package.”

  “Thank you, Sergeant,” said Major Tierney, “The General said you were to leave promptly. However, we understand your flight needs to be refuelled before your next stop in Broken Hill. That could take a while. Trooper Phil would be glad to be your host at the waiting room facilities.”

  Sergeant Todd and his men grinned as they went with Trooper Phil into the lovely air conditioning and refreshments.

  “Miss Henderson, I presume,” said Father Pacioli as he reached out his hand in greeting.

  “Janice, will be fine,” smiled Janice, indicating the alien beside here, “and this is Pommy. She’s very nervous.”

  Father Pacioli crouched down and smiled at Pommy, eye to eye, “Greetings. We mean you no harm.”

  Pommy smiled at the use of the Federation of Planets standard first contact greeting and bent in the middle in greeting, “Thank you.”

  “I am Father Brian Pacioli. Just call me Padre. Everyone else does around here.”

  Turning to Janice he asked, “Will you be joining us? The General said you were accompanying Pommy, but didn’t elaborate.”

  Janice answered, “If that’s okay with you? I don’t have any entanglements at home and a leave of absence for something as exciting as this is an amazing opportunity.”

  Major Tierney said, “You are welcome to join us here in Canungra. We think your experience may be a useful addition to our skills here.”

  Father Pacioli stood up and offered his hand down towards Pommy, “We have some other Federation citizens here and we will do our best to make you comfortable. Shall we go?”

  Pommy looked up and smiled, holding onto Father Pacioli’s hand. Together with Janice and Major Tierney they returned to the waiting rooms. Once they recovered their security detail they would get Pommy settled in with Heron, Byron and the ladies.

  Their Sanctuary was growing!

  ****

  Eric yelled out in delight. He had done it! At least, he was pretty sure he had done it.

  “Mate,” said Professor Higgins, “What have you done?”

  The author's narrative has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.

  Eric looked up from his work bench, located deep underground in one of the reclaimed mines under Broken Hill. He was a researcher on loan from the US to assist in unraveling the mysteries of Federation of Planets technology. This base contained the remains of The Brick - properly called a ‘Mobile Salvage Processing Centre’ according to the FedNet database they had extracted from the captured Universal communicator.

  While most of the other researchers were deep into working out how the recycling systems worked and others examined the lasers and shields, Eric was fascinated by the beam up technology inherent in every communicator. Most countries conducted their own investigations into the alien technology to varying degrees of success, but the research centre under Broken Hill was the best place to study. The crashed spaceship had been transported there in secret via multiple means of transport. Every part of the ship whether large or small, broken or whole, ended up here.

  So General Gant from ARRG had arranged for Eric to go to Broken Hill. He was one of the youngest researchers working for Johnny Cartwright, science entrepreneur. Eric had developed many special devices which came in very handy during the rushed conversion of the small ships used to capture The Brick.

  “See you Mom!” he had said when he left home a few months ago, “I’m off to save the world!”

  “Yes, Dear,” his Mother had said distractedly while knitting a new jumper for the approaching Winter. That boy was always doing fancy confusing things.

  “Professor! I think I have worked it out. I can block the communicator beam up signals.” Eric answered while pointing grandiosely at the two communicators on the table in front of him. These were the simpler models, known as ‘Classics’. The best thing was they didn’t blow up like the fancier ‘Universe 7’ models with their inbuilt security systems.

  “Let’s see, lad,” said the Professor as he made his way carefully to Eric’s side past the discarded and misplaced boxes and equipment. Eric was only nineteen, but had finished a joint Engineering degree and electrical qualification while tinkering at home. His mother was very happy that homeschooling such a clever lad was mainly a matter of letting him pursue his insatiable curiosity.

  The professor put his hand on Eric’s shoulder and asked, “How can you tell?”

  Eric pointed at the two devices and the clear glass panel between them that reached to the ceiling and about six feet either side. “You know how Earth scientists had worked out how to detect the signals when a hunting party arrives or leaves Earth?”

  ‘Yes, yes,” said the Professor, “That’s how we are able to send the Global Warning System messages so quickly to those in the vicinity. And?”

  “And,” said Eric, “I used their work and applied it in a more focussed fashion to determine how the communicators sent their signals. They must send something for their ship to reach them.”

  “More focussed?” asked the Professor who then noticed a number of broken communicators lying on the floor, mostly out of sight.

  At his look of shock, Eric quickly said, “That’s okay, Professor. Those communicators may be lost, but they died for a greater cause!”

  Unable to do anything more than splutter at the loss of irreplaceable captured communicators, the Professor could only listen as Eric continued, “Look!”

  Eric pressed a button on the communicator closest to him.

  “See?” he announced.

  The Professor looked at both communicators and at Eric.

  Realising that the Professor was missing something important as nothing had happened on the second communicator, Eric slapped his hand on his forehead, “Doh!”

  Eric pressed a button and the glass panel rose into the ceiling, leaving a clear space between the communicators. He pressed a button on the first communicator again.

  The second communicator lit up and buzzed happily.

  Eric waved his hands in triumph, “Ta da!”

  “Do it again,” said the Professor.

  A week or so later and Eric was aboard the military jet with Sergeant Todd and his ARRG squad.

  “Lad,” asked the sergeant, ‘Why the special trip to bring you home? Weren’t you enjoying your time at Broken Hill?”

  Eric put down his drink of Dr Pepper, ate another Lay’s potato chip and sighed, “I have missed that. The Aussie food was okay, I guess, but nothing like a taste of home.”

  The sergeant stared at Eric.

  “Ah, yes,” said Eric, realising he hadn’t answered the Sergeant’s question, “They want me home because I have done it!”

  “What’s ’It’?” said the sergeant.

  “Worked out how to block the FOP communicators,” Eric said proudly, “I have worked out what signal they are using and created an algorithmic wave transmission which negates the communicator transmission.”

  “How does that help?” asked Sergeant Todd, leaning forward as his curiosity was stirred.

  “Well,” said Eric holding an imaginary communicator in his hand, “I’m a FOP and I see a scary Sergeant coming for me. I reckon it’s time for me to go. My communicator beeps and I’m gone.”

  “That’s very annoying,” said Sergeant Todd, “Very annoying.”

  Corporal Miller and his teammates seated behind Eric nodded in agreement.

  “But here I am with my transmitter,” said Eric, miming himself holding a box with knobs and turning the knobs, “And suddenly the FOP says, ‘Hello? Hello? Anyone there?’ And then they see you.”

  Sergeant Todd looked over Eric towards Miller, whose jaw had dropped at the news. The ARRG troopers began to slowly grin as they realised the potential of Eric’s discovery.

  Miller pantomimed an explosion as his hands slowly spread outwards and his mouth whispered, “Boom”.

  “Wipeout!” said Sergeant Todd in agreement.

  Not catching the communication between Todd and Miller above his head as he took another drink of his Dr Pepper, Eric said, “Anyway, I will be staying with my uncle at Saint Ignatius Loyola in New York. He is on the staff there and General Gant has agreed to set up a laboratory for me and some others in the basement.

  Eric put on a deep gruff voice trying to imitate General Gant, “You can settle down there near family and continue your studies. When you’re ready we’ll develop some prototypes to test.”

  Eric smiled and continued, “I was getting a bit homesick. Broken Hill research centre is fun and all, but I miss real food from home. Like this!”

  So saying, Eric took another handful of chips from the bag and ate happily and noisily.

  *****

  Heron and Byron stood in front of their mostly built new home with Noreh and Noryb by their sides waiting for their new guests. Mick and Jim were nearby completing some final touches. Heron was sure they had finished, but when they heard about the new visitor, Mick somehow discovered a few more finishing touches were required. “Just to make sure it’s perfect, mate” said Mick.

  Father Pacioli approached with a human woman and between them was a small creature walking slowly and a little unsteadily.

  “It’s a Pom Pom,” whispered Noreh to Noryb, “They’re so cute!”

  “Greetings. We mean you no harm,” said Heron as he stepped forward to greet the Pom Pom.

  “Thank you,” she said meekly.

  Noreh rushed forward and gathered the creature in her arms and brought her to their lounge chairs on the new front deck, “Can’t you see she’s exhausted!” Noreh scolded them.

  Heron and Byron looked as surprised as Father Pacioli and Janice.

  “What’s wrong?” asked Father Pacioli.

  “Just look at her!” said Noreh.

  They did and remained equally confused.

  Noryb spoke up, “You came here in one of your vehicles with glass windows all round, didn’t you?”

  “Of course,” said Janice, “We thought it would be nice for Pommy to see the land she would now call home.”

  The aliens all sighed, realising what had happened.

  Janice and Father Pacioli said, “What?”

  “I know!” said Jim, calling from their oddly silent working area.

  “Go ahead, my hard working friends,” said Heron, waving his hand to Jim.

  Jim stepped forward. Pommy stepped back and tunnelled into Noryb’s four comfortable arms and whispered, “That one’s huge and scary.”

  Noryb leaned down and whispered back, “He’s just a big hairy Dirtling. That one’s relatively harmless. His hatchlings are pretty boisterous though.”

  “I reckon at home you all have vehicles with lots of safety features like automatic steering, braking and all that,” said Jim, looking at the aliens.

  They all agreed with a mix of head shakes and nods.

  “And so here is the new alien - sorry, Pommy - sitting behind some flimsy glass as she is propelled at speed along non secured roads amongst lots of other vehicles hurtling themselves in all directions. I reckon it would be like a scary ride, and for how long?” said Jim.

  “Oh dear!” said Janice, realising what she had done.

  “About ninety minutes,” said Father Pacioli slowly, “Sorry Pommy. We didn’t realise.”

  Heron looked at Jim curiously and asked, “How did you guess that, Jim?”

  Jim grinned broadly and said, “I’ve got kids, mate. I’ve watched you guys learning your way amongst our comparatively wild and uncontrolled world and thought how our kids learn. When they are little we hold them, drop them and catch ‘em before they drop. It’s great fun. And they develop trust in us and accept the world around them. For you I reckon it’s a bit of a shock.”

  “Too right!” said Byron, trying out a local phrase he had learnt from Mick, “You Dirtlings are crazy. From little hatchlings they are taught to look both ways before crossing, check this and that before doing things. It’s fascinating. And scary.”

  “You’ll catch on,” said Mick, “Just look both ways when you’re out ’n’ about.”

  Mick then looked at Jim, “Stop loafing about, ya bludger. Get back to work!”