Gods of Titan- The Cosmic Constants

by David Christmas

  It felt like his whole body was on fire. He was sweating profusely, and he could feel himself slowly slipping away into unconsciousness. His vision was tunnelling, and he knew he had to act now, or it would all be over. With his last remaining strength, he forced himself to reach out, and just managed to press the button that would initiate the activation sequence before his arm slipped away again. He knew he was done. He’d completely exhausted his strength and if the chamber was somehow damaged, he wouldn’t survive much longer. Then he heard the faint sound of the door sliding shut and the gentle whirring of the cryogenic gas outlet. He relaxed. Not long now, he told himself. Not long now.

  Then all went black.

  §

  When he woke again, he was mercifully free of pain. The door to his cubicle opened automatically and he stepped gingerly out, shaking his wings free and flexing his limbs. Uri was waiting for him, consternation giving way to relief that his Captain was fully healed.

  ‘Welcome back, sir,’ he said. ‘We were becoming a little concerned.’

  Micha was already busy carrying out the usual post-stasis exercises but looked up questioningly.

  ‘Systems still a problem? How long have I been in stasis?’

  ‘Yes, sir – the systems are proving to be quite difficult to re-establish. The regeneration function of the chambers remains degraded despite our best efforts. It’s functioning at twenty-four percent nominal. You’ve been in there for approaching eight weeks.’

  ‘Eight weeks?’ Micha was stunned. The process should have taken no more than a few days at most under normal conditions. ‘What about the human?’

  ‘I placed him in a chamber as per your order, sir. He was very badly injured. I was surprised he’d survived at all and I wouldn’t like to guess at his prognosis. He’s still in regeneration.’

  Micha gazed into the chamber adjoining his own. The state of the human had improved considerably but there was clearly some way to go yet. He wondered what the effect of the prolonged regeneration would be on the outcome. Would the mental processes be intact? Although the regeneration technology was impressive, it was far from perfect. He grabbed his uniform from the niche beside the stasis chamber and began dressing. He turned to Uri.

  ‘Report, please! What’s been going on in my absence? I know about the crash. What I don’t know is how it could have happened. I presume you’ve been able to piece together some relevant facts during the past few weeks?’

  Uri looked uncomfortable.

  ‘The crash appears to have been a direct result of action undertaken by the Cthon against Earth.’

  Micha paused halfway through pulling on his leather leggings.

  ‘Why would the Cthon act against Earth? They were supposed to subtly keep humanity from developing mentalics.’ He yanked the leggings up round his waist and secured the belt. ‘What did they do?’

  ‘They appear to have developed their own agenda. First, they interfered in Earth’s history more than was strictly necessary and then, when the humans began to develop mentalics regardless of these interventions, they devised a complicated plan to wipe them out completely. This was twenty years ago, and they were stymied by this human …’ He nodded in Sol’s direction. ‘… and a female. A few weeks ago, they tried again, using weaponised asteroids. They were foiled again, but in order to save Earth the humans had to sacrifice Titan.’

  ‘So, it was an asteroid impact on Titan that released the ship? What about the Eich?’

  ‘Sir, the asteroids aimed at Titan never reached their target.’

  ‘Then what …?’

  ‘When it became obvious that Titan would be destroyed, the humans invited the Eich to relocate to Earth. They left Titan shortly before the first asteroid strike was due.’

  ‘Ahhh.’ Micha suddenly understood. ‘So, the Eich left Titan for Earth and the ship followed procedures – it liberated itself from Titan’s mantle.’

  ‘Yes, sir. Unfortunately, with such severely degraded systems, the only way it could achieve its programmed objective was to blow-up Titan from within. That then created further problems for the humans – problems that almost resulted in the destruction of their own planet. They were very skilful in preventing the disaster, sir. They appear to be a very resilient species.’

  ‘Let’s hope so for his sake.’ Micha stared sadly at the diminutive human in the stasis chamber. ‘Why did the ship head towards Mars?’

  ‘That was also caused by the degraded systems, sir. The ship detected that the Eich had left Titan. It also picked up life-signs on a strictly circumscribed area of Mars, a similar number of life-signs to the expected number of Eich. It put two and two together and ….’

  ‘It reasoned the Eich had gone to Mars,’ Micha said, ‘so it targeted the remaining fragment at them.’ He frowned. ‘Our prolonged absence has caused the humans a lot of trouble and been responsible for the destruction of a native life-form on Titan. What about the Eich? Whereabouts on Earth did they relocate to? And why weren’t they more active in defence of their protegees?’

  ‘They settled in a remote valley in the mountain range known as the Himalayas,’ Uri said. ‘We don’t believe they were capable of responding to the physical threat posed by the asteroids, and there were obviously too few of them to take on the Cthon mentalically. Their settlement is surrounded by a folded-space barrier and can’t be reached.’

  ‘Hmmm.’ Micha contemplated that for a moment. ‘So, who constructed that barrier – the Eich, to protect themselves, or the Cthon, to imprison the Eich?’

  Uri shook his head.

  ‘We don’t know. Once the ship has recovered its functionality we can consider taking down our own barrier and contacting the Cthon directly. I presume you’ll wish to do that in any event?’

  ‘I most certainly will. We’ve almost presided over genocide in this system. We may not have been aware what was going on but there’s little doubt about our culpability. We need to get a grip on the situation and restore some degree of normality. At the very least we must put an end to this low-grade interstellar war.’

  ‘It’s not really a war, sir. The humans are simply defending themselves against unwarranted attacks by the Cthon. The Cthon have taken our concerns about events in sub-quantal space more seriously than we intended.’

  ‘Okay, I understand what’s happening. Is there anything else?’

  ‘We also found this.’ Uri produced a baton-shaped object. ‘The human was holding it when I got to him. He was gripping it so tightly I had to prise it out of his hand. Analysis shows it to be a weapon. It also contains an AI, but the thing is either damaged or is simply refusing to engage with us.’

  Micha took the object and turned it over in his hand.

  ‘I learned some of the human’s speech before the impact. Maybe the thing will respond to that.’ He fixed his gaze on the baton. ‘If you can understand me, please respond,’ he said, in English. ‘Your owner is currently in regeneration. We mean you no harm.’

  A deep voice emerged from the speaker on the baton’s side.

  ‘I’m fully aware of what’s happening. Thank you for helping Sol – who’s not my owner, by the way. I am a fully autonomous AI. Sol and I represent a human/AI partnership. My name is Chard.’

  Micha glanced across at Uri, then back to Chard.

  ‘My apologies, Chard. I meant no disrespect.’

  ‘None taken. Are you in a position to give me a more detailed report on Sol? I have been trying to access the relevant systems but, despite their condition, they appear to be protected by some very high-level software.’

  Micha relayed the question to Uri, but he was unable to say any more than he already had.

  ‘Unfortunately, it’s impossible to tell whether Sol will recover. He was very badly injured, and the regenerative processes are severely degraded. We’re especially concerned for his cognitive function since he’s suffered a significant brain injury.’

  There was silence for a moment, causing Micha to wonder whether t
his AI had developed an emotional capability. It had been known to happen – usually when an AI had worked closely with an organic intelligence for a considerable time. Was Chard worried for Sol’s health? His thoughts were cut short by Chard again.

  ‘That would be very … sad. Sol is my friend and I can’t conceive of him being less than he was. I hope your technology is successful in bringing him back to me.’

  Micha was stunned. That speech was laden with emotional overtones. The human and AI must have had a particularly close relationship over many years. It would be tragic if it were cut short.

  ‘We’ll do all we can,’ he said. There was little else to say. ‘While we’re waiting for his regeneration to complete, would you be prepared to help my crew learn your language? In return, we’ll provide you with some background information about ongoing events in your solar system that you might find interesting.’

  ‘That would be very useful,’ Chard said. ‘I wonder – would it be possible for you to temporarily drop your folded-space barrier, so I can communicate with some of my colleagues? Sol’s partner will have given up hope on him still being alive and I would like to pass on our news.’

  Micha consulted with Uri again before replying.

  ‘Unfortunately, that won’t be possible. The ship has only recently extricated itself from this planet’s mantle after the impact that so nearly destroyed it. Before that, it was trapped in Titan for a long time, and it now needs a period of stability in which to restore its processes. We’re currently orbiting close to the Martian surface, and we’re aware of a human ship in the vicinity. The folded-space barrier protects us from the atmospheric conditions as well as from detection by this other ship, so it must stay in place for now. Once our systems are restored sufficiently we’ll move away from the planet. Then you can make your call.’

  ‘I understand.’ Micha detected disappointment. ‘While I’m waiting for Sol, I’d be very happy to help in any way I can. If you were to allow me access to your systems, I might even be able to assist with their restoration.’

  ‘That would be going a little far.’ Micha smiled, impressed with the AIs audacity. ‘I think your phrase would be, “good try”.’

  ‘Oh well – not to worry. I’ll content myself with staying offline. I suppose you should be investigating what state you ship is in. I’ve already kept you talking too long. I’ll be available when you want me. Chard signing off for now.’

  ‘Well that was interesting.’ Micha said.

  He told Uri the gist of the conversation and they both agreed that the AI might be extremely useful if Sol came out of his regeneration with significant deficits. He might well be able to provide therapeutic input that the crew could not, input that could be vital for his rehabilitation. Now, however, Chard was correct in saying that Micha needed to turn his attention to his ship. Slipping Chard into his belt, Micha turned away from the stasis chamber and the two El headed for the bridge.

  The Stasis Room was left eerily quiet. Uri had revived the rest of the crew while Micha had been regenerating, so all the chambers were empty save for the one holding the regenerating human. Standing naked, upright in the massive chamber, Sol looked very small and fragile.

  Then he opened his eyes.

  Chapter 8

  Tao felt she’d been floating in the photon stream forever. She had once told Juliette that time was a little “tricky” in sub-quantal space, and this simply confirmed it. Of course, subjective time could vary considerably in normal space too, but this wasn’t subjective in the same sense, because she had no physical body with its time-bending array of hormones and neurones. On the other hand, it couldn’t be described as “objective” either because there were no means to measure time down here. She thought her first description was probably the right one. Time was tricky.

  She had gradually become adept at relaxing into the photon flow and was convinced she was moving nearer to what she thought of as “the shallows”, for no other reason than she was feeling more energised. She remembered her previous feeling that there was more structure here than was immediately apparent, and carefully scanned the volume of space immediately surrounding her, trying to focus on any irregularities in the all-pervading white glow. She was convinced there were some vague differences. The light appeared more intense in one direction – just over to what she thought of as her right. Then something clicked, and her entire perception changed.

  It was like the well-known optical illusion of the old woman and the young lady. You normally saw the young lady first, but if you could switch your focus and see the design conjured up by negative space you’d also see the old woman. And once you’d seen them both you’d always see them. You couldn’t “un-see” them. It was like that now. One minute, Tao seemed to be enveloped in formless white light emanating from the photon stream, the next she was drifting through a montage of spectral visions. It was all a matter of focus.

  She was staggered by the number and variability of the visions. They appeared to come from every age of Earth’s history, as well as from alien cultures all over the universe, and every scene played out in isolation from every other, fading through each other like insubstantial phantoms. It was almost as if they weren’t real, though Tao had a strong feeling they were as real as she was. They just weren’t present in her reality – or in each other’s. So how many realities were there? What did “reality” mean?

  She paused for a moment in her effortless drifting and concentrated on one scene that kept tugging at her. Intrigued, she expended a little energy and moved closer. It was one of the many family scenes, this one involving an Asian family, mother, father and young daughter, probably about six years old, in a second story apartment. As Tao watched, a teenage girl knocked on the door and was promptly admitted. Babysitter, obviously, because the parents hurried to put on coats as if they were late for something. With a swift goodbye to the daughter, they hurried out, leaving the babysitter in charge. For some reason, Tao was hooked, and kept watching. As the evening wore on, the child was put to bed and the babysitter settled down to watch the Tri-Vid. It seemed to be a perfectly normal suburban evening – until the gas main exploded.

  The force of the explosion demolished a fair bit of the ground floor, though the retaining walls held for now and the apartment with the baby and sitter suffered only minor damage. Then the fire started, and things changed very quickly. Thick black smoke, fuelled by the insulation in the outer walls, spread rapidly to the undamaged part of the building and flames followed closely, clawing their way up the walls and stairwells and skimming frighteningly across the ceilings like some malignant living entity. Although there was no sound, Tao could imagine the terrified screams as people tried desperately to get to safety, only to find their escape route cut off. A few jumped – sometimes from windows on the third and fourth floors – and a small number made it to hospital with multiple injuries. Most died.

  The apartment block was soon a conflagration. Tao found she could focus her awareness on whatever part of the scene she chose, zooming in or out as the mood took her. She zoomed in to the apartment she’d started watching. The young babysitter had acted quickly and efficiently, stuffing bed clothes under the door to stop the black smoke coming in. She must have received some sort of training, Tao thought, because she made no attempt to open the door. Unfortunately, it was very doubtful that would be enough. The flames were creeping closer, and parts of the building were beginning to collapse.

  Tao was mesmerised. This was somehow awfully familiar, and she had the feeling she knew what was going to happen next. The parents were going to return and would make a desperate attempt to help their daughter. They would be successful but would lose their own lives in the process. Sure enough, as she watched, the parents arrived, turning horrified gazes towards their apartment. They didn’t hesitate for a minute. The man said something to his wife, whipped off his coat, threw it over his head, and ran into the burning building. The woman followed soon afterwards, casting around for the
fire extinguisher that she knew should be in the lobby.

  It was almost too much for Tao, knowing as she did the outcome. Then, it took on a whole new level of horror as she suddenly realised why it was all so familiar. This had happened to her when she was a child of six. In fact, the child in the burning building was her – and she knew for a fact that her parents would die saving her. She wanted with all her heart to turn away, but something kept her glued to the scene of carnage.

  She watched as her father made it to the top of the stairs and threw himself against their door with such force that it sprang open. She watched as he grabbed the young Tao in his arms and took the babysitter’s hand before tearing out of the room again, staggering from a sudden flare-up and choking in the black smoke. She watched as her mother found the extinguisher and began spraying its contents, around the lobby and up the stairs. Finally, she watched as her father hurtled down the stairs that her mother had recently extinguished and the whole family rushed out into the street, crossing to the far side, well away from the holocaust, and collapsing on the ground.

  This was all wrong. Though Tao was ecstatic to see them all survive, she knew that wasn’t what had happened. So, what was going on here? Was this a dream, or had she somehow manufactured a wish-fulfilment from the surrounding photons? She didn’t think so. She hadn’t even been thinking of the house fire that had killed both her parents when she was very young. And she certainly wasn’t making-up all the other ethereal visions that were playing out all around her.

  She was still trying to make sense of it when she saw Josh in another projection. He was in his space suit on the moon and was about to explode the nuclear bomb that destroyed the last asteroid. It was like a re-run of the horror she’d recently witnessed, and she tried desperately to shout out to him – to warn him of what was about to happen. Of course, she couldn’t – she could only watch it all over again. And then the miracle happened. Josh exploded the bomb and struggled for a while to escape the negative gravity produced in the throat of the portal. Then he managed it, dragging himself slowly over the Moon’s surface, away from the raging blast until, finally, it was over, and the portal closed. He raised his arm in a triumphant salute.