Suppose We

by Geoff Nelder

  ‘The AI on board your ship is the sole guardian of a small package to be used only if it deems fit for purpose at your designated planet. This must have occurred for you to be hearing this message. Instead of packing foetuses plus sperm and ova with the problem of needing sufficient hosts to create a viable population for colonising an assumed non-human planet, we’ve bundled human genome in an organic-safe gel. As the science officer you are required to find a suitable host to splice, or otherwise, take the human genome. There are logical consequences.’

  Gaston chuckled as he rocked on the wet forest floor. A green moth settled on his bad arm. He muttered to it, “Quelle ruse. But why not tell us? What were we going to do? Ah, of course: the logical consequences. It won’t produce cloned humans, but amalgams. Creatures with human genes, but, well humans and dogs share eighty-four percent of their DNA and, my little fluttery thing, fifty percent with bananas! We need to be clever with our micro-biology to ensure something approaching human for the future on this planet.”

  Delta’s voice from behind startled him. “Talking to yourself? You know what that’s a sign of, Gas?”

  “Oui, being at one with Nature. You couldn’t sleep either? A message?”

  She sat on a fallen mossed tree in front of him. “Yeah, I’m to build a device to take your bacteria samples as a payload in a small flyer.”

  “Really? Ah, of course.” Gaston knew then that CAN planned to merge the human genome with the rogue bacteria. If successful and if prions were involved it could spread over the planet. He wondered if it might benefit the Keps if the new merged entity disrupted the bad bacteria. Oh no, Delta was talking…

  “…back to the escape pods for bits and pieces, but—”

  “Excusez-moi, Delta, did your message tell you where and why you need to transport the sample?”

  “Nope. I bet Em, as navigator, will be asked to do the where. I assumed you know the why, but Penn must have stuff to do, too. We need to share info, yeah?”

  Gaston stood up and brushed the wet leaves from his posterior. “Agreed.”

  On their way back, Gaston collected what looked like bracket fungi they’ve eaten before. “Petit dejuener,” he said with a smile then added some dark berries though he’d have to test them first.

  “You go first, Em,” Penn said while chewing the mushroom, fried in a kind of crushed avocado oil, chive-like red sprouts and the berries. “I’ll save the big news for last.”

  “Oh, all I received was to plot a course and program a GPS module using the marbles we have in orbit. Not really enough for continuous signalling, but with a homing device—”

  Penn interrupted. “To where, Em, the crash site, or where Suppose We is underground?”

  “Neither, CAN gave me coordinates, but I’ve not had chance to plot them. Hang on, I’ll do it now.” She dabbed at her wrist-pad. “Oh, it’s about halfway between us and Suppose We, in the middle of what appears to be a desert.”

  “Makes sense,” Penn said. “No Keps nearby and probably not their flitter things though no doubt they’d track it if they’ve a mind to.”

  Gaston said, “Three of us have tasks then. So, Penn, what about you and what is the big news?”

  Penn stood, but looked down at his feet. “As commander, I will oversee this…erm, project and I’ve been instructed to develop a defensive device for the flyer, Delta is to build.”

  “Hang on,” Delta said, “I didn’t know I had to add the weight of armaments on the flyer, what will it involve?”

  “And,” Em asked, “why defence? Has something new happened?”

  They were all staring at Penn, but he wouldn’t meet their eyes. “Something did happen quite a long time ago. I might have made a… give me a minute.”

  He walked off deeper into the forest.

  “Should I go after him?” Delta asked.

  Gaston shook his head. “I gained the impression he wanted solitude. Has he told you why he might be upset?”

  “Oh right, besides me—his girl—being kidnapped and God knows what might have happened if that titch Kep hadn’t gotten me out of there?”

  “Oui, besides that.”

  “Well no then, although…”

  Em joined in, “He’s been acting a bit weirder, like going off alone for an hour or two while…” She glanced up through the trees as if she could see much sky.

  “The giant spheres,” Gaston said, and a thoughtful silence followed. He continued, “Did the Keps say anything about them?”

  “Tricky to say what they might have tried to say to me,” Delta said. “I had the uneasy impression they were pissed off and I had an image of a sphere exploding in my head.”

  Em said, “That could mean Penn’s action brought an enemy here…”

  “Or,” Gaston said, “that the spheres were needed on Kepler-20h. Not an enemy at all. It might be too painful in that case to ask Penn directly, although we should.”

  Em said, “He might well have scuppered our entire mission by destroying that sphere.”

  “To be fair,” Delta added, “he thought he was being protective both of our ship and the planet. Gaston, did you investigate what the sphere might have contained from spectroscopy of the explosion, et cetera?”

  “Gases, the sphere’s interior was compartmentalised. A lot of oxygen was combusted, but the results were ambiguous. I have thought, since we landed that if the Keps were trying to stabilise the atmosphere here. Rossby waves in the jet streams are far more erratic here than Earth’s or any solar system atmosphere, so they might have planned to add gases compatible with life here. A kind of terraforming the envelope.”

  “If I was happier with this click-translator thing, I could ask that Kep,” Delta said.

  They were all standing and looking at the direction in which Penn had walked.

  “You interrogate our CAN, Gas,” Em said, “since you seem more chatty with it than us. Damn, we can’t really do much until Penn returns, although we can plan for our tasks.”

  “Oui, you can help me collect some fresh bacteria. Have either of you seen it eating anything lately?”

  NOTA BENE FROM CANNULA

  I would have thought that four of the Earth’s best brains would have worked it all out by now, yet here is another plaintive cry from Science Office Gaston Poirier. All right, I’ll reveal as much as I know from the flitters. He guessed right anyway. I’d better add confirmation about the opposition. I fear for those four. Their days are numbered and x<10 if the Keps have their way. Not that it matters to Earth and its Spaceweb once the altered prion-bacteria is created and released.

  I wonder if the flitters, the real masters of Kepler-20h, have a use for me?

  Signed CAN (as in Cannula)

  Date: Earth January 25th 3645 Kepler New 16 days

  After waiting three hours, they left a message for Penn on his wrist comm and radio implant. If they’d possessed paper, they’d have pinned a note on a tree. It would have said, ‘We’re going to the pods. The ancient Kep seems to have adopted us.’

  After a day’s hike, Gaston hoped to be back in the tunnel by sunset. Penn had taken his pack with the extrusion kit for making hammocks and tents. Plenty of input material was in the leaves of the forest, but it required the clever stuff in the kit to create a lot of the things they need besides sleep and shelter. Plates, clothes… think le Mammouth hypermarket with cellulose going in through the back door and loaded trolleys out of the front.

  The cliff towered above them with the tunnel entrance near the top. The rocks glowed a warm orange in the already low sun. He wondered if the Kep would float up, taking a rope with him, her, it. He should talk to Delta about Kep gender if she knew. She was too upset to be questioned now. Affected still by her capture even though the rest of the crew were so relieved that she was alive and demonstrably well, and repeatedly told her so, with hugs. Clearly, Penn’s absconding weighed on her, too. They were lovers, but Gaston hadn’t absorbed much impression of fondness between them. Em said his lack o
f picking up such emotional nuances was because he was a man, but merde, he was a Frenchman!

  He’d ask the Kep himself about the creature’s gender, plus a few other things such as the planet’s history, but the click translator hadn’t worked for anyone but Delta. Perhaps it was coded especially for her. He’d ask CAN to do the same for the rest of the crew.

  Delta’s gaze changed direction from front upwards to behind. “Look at that sphere, it’s much closer than even a few hours ago.”

  Gaston leaned against the cliff and saw the sphere, which had the appearance of a soap bubble. “Oui, please ask your Kep friend if we should be underground when its contents are released.”

  “Sure, ah, it’s gone already.”

  The three strained their necks, holding out their hands on the rough but hot cliff at first, but stepping back to get a better view of the tunnel entrance.

  “I cannot see it,” Gaston said.

  “Oh well,” Em said, “we’ll just have to limber up and scale the cliff. It’s always easier finding hand and footholds going up, and the bottom of the ladder is only twenty metres or so up. Let me climb up you, Gas.”

  “It would be my pleasure. Would you be good enough to take up a liana to tie on the end of that ladder?”

  Gaston ran to the nearest trees with dangling vines and lasered one, rolled it and jogged back. Em slung it over her shoulder.

  “Right, stand by that boulder,” she said, “Delta will help support us both while I step up onto your left arm, then shoulders and head. I can see a toe hold after that whi—”

  Delta stood back. “Sorry, guys, I’ve come over all dithery. Pins and needles in my legs and arms.”

  Gaston put his arm around her. “Lie down, legs up. Allow me to check your vital— er, un moment!” He’d squatted down but fell backwards in shock.

  The Kep had moved in between him and Delta emitting clicks like a machine gun.

  Gaston scrambled backwards. He saw Em also on the ground, she was open-mouthed and, like him rearranging their limbs to get to Delta, save her from whatever the creature was doing.

  Delta called to them, “No, leave it. I’ll be all right.”

  Em yelled, “Can you move?”

  “No, but I’m shaking all over. Maybe you really should help me. Oh shit!”

  The sharp tang of ozone made Gaston gasp. His hair stood on end as static electricity engulfed them. He gripped his nostrils, but he let go when sparks left his fingertips. His eyes slammed shut in agony as if red-hot pins danced in them. He writhed in pain when his muscles cramped in spasms. A curled foetal position on the ground was all he could manage. Self-preservation yet with guilt at not being able to help the women. His ears blocked all sounds, but every synapse was too busy shutting down to process any sensory input.

  Gradually, through the aural fog, he heard muffled sounds. A burning smell. Was his hair singed?

  “Gaston, pull yourself together.”

  “Em, have I not mentioned how absurd that saying is?” His eyes had stopped hurting, so he slowly cranked his eyelids half open.

  She sat in a cloud of butterflies. She waved her arms and they rippled back then flew off. “It’s about time, Gas. I can’t find Delta.”

  Gaston eyes yanked full open. He tried to stand but gave up when his limbs demanded more time to recover from their electrical overload. “Really gone? Not again. Can you stand?”

  They helped each other stand and after moments realized no real harm had been done to them. Other than shock, possible long-term neural trauma and emotional devastation that they’ve lost Delta once more. They hugged for a while then stood back to back peering at the landscape. The base of the cliff stretched for several kilometres in both directions like an escarpment, with scrubland mottled with trees. They saw flitting movement in and between the trees but no sign of Delta nor the Kep. Penn still missing when they needed him.

  Gaston turned to look up the cliff-face. It shouldn’t be too hard to climb. It was sedimentary with bands of hard and soft sandstone. The tougher rock was darker and more gritstone that made useful toe and handholds. While he examined the rockface, a hand gripped his shoulder. He couldn’t stop himself grinning as Em continued to use him as a ladder before she finally trod on his head and carried on upwards.

  He waited until she tied the vine to the bottom of their ladder. He pulled it out a little from the face, making it easier for her to climb up to the ledge with the tunnel. It was a mistake. The rock was hundreds of millions of years old but it didn’t mean it was solid. Fragments from her climbing fell on Gaston until caution overtook him and he let the rope go. Once at the top she told him through his implant to come on up.

  He tied his, Delta’s and Em’s backpacks to the end of the vine then started up. Weird how when he part climbed a rope and part found footholds, his brain lost its focus and so slipped several times. At a ledge he planted both feet, held on to the vine and took deep breaths to steady himself. Just as he looked for and lifted a foot to the next jutted rock, he was startled by,

  “Wanna lift, Gas?”

  From behind him, Delta’s husky voice was accompanied by a metallic whiff making him think it was the Kep talking, or that she’d become one. He dared not turn in case he fell. He wasn’t ready for what might be the weirdest experience yet.

  “I am fine, I will just carry on. Nearly at the rope ladder. See you at the top.”

  He’d never climbed so fast, but at least he didn’t hear that ghostly voice. Em offered him a hand to get up to the ledge. She wore her widest grin.

  “So, you didn’t relish a ride up here with Delta’s Kep then?”

  He rolled over onto the ledge and looked back. “But I heard her talk to me when I was halfway up!”

  Delta walked out from behind Em. “Either my Kep can talk after all, and in my voice instead of clicks, or you heard it through your implant and—”

  “Ah, of course. Un moment. I have to haul up the packs. A little help would be good.” He looked around to see Em bend down to lend assistance, but Delta stood, arms folded. Without turning back toward the edge, he said, “I don’t need to pull, do I?”

  In moments, a nudge on his left side told him the backpacks were arriving. A useful trick. Delta had done a magnificent job befriending this one, as long as its intentions were honourable, so to speak. Gaston interest was piqued now because he recalled that the bacteria had infected the wall on the right twenty metres into the tunnel. He needed a good sample, but how would the Kep react near to it?

  The three humans stood at the tunnel entrance looking outwards.

  Delta spoke first, “Where the fuck is he?”

  Gaston put his good arm around her shoulders, “I am sorry to say a dereliction of duty. He should be here with his crew, however, he has had a painful shock to his ego.”

  “Sure, but we told him he was wrong to blast those spheres. There was no evidence they were going to attack Suppose We or the planet.”

  The enigmatic spiral tower glinted golden in the sunset.

  Gaston found himself speaking up for their commander. “He might seem to stumble on an adrenaline high, acting impulsively much of the time, but if you scan the mission personnel requirements, he fits them.”

  Em shook her blond hair and the ponytail followed. “He nearly killed us in space, in orbit, set fire to Delta—well, her roadside café—and now he’s deserted us. And yet…”

  Delta put her arm to Em so it ended as a group hug. “He’s a schmuck, but he’s our schmuck.”

  Gaston used the glasses to scan the forest, the town beyond, then to the right where a haze fuzzed his view. Probably a heat haze over marshland, or ocean. “I wish Penn would get in touch, he’s not responding to my radio. Et tu?”

  “Afraid not, the doofus,” Delta said. “He’s supposed to be our commander, the leader of this expedition. Mentor. But he’s gone walkabout over a huge sulk. Fuck him, let him go. He’s a giant misfit, and…” She stamped a foot. “…I miss him.”

>   Em tapped her ear. “I’ve just had a message. No… it’s from CAN. I asked if our remote sensing orbitals were detecting Penn. The reply was affirmative, and that it has always detected four of us as living humans!”

  Gaston frowned. “But it told me—”

  “Hang on,” Em held up a finger. “There we go, it can detect us when we’re not underground.”

  Gaston looked back into the tunnel and broke into a jog to catch up with the Kep, eager to see its reaction to the slime. The others followed.

  “Bit of a design flaw, our radios,” Em said.

  Delta grumbled. “We didn’t expect having to be underground so much, or we could have planted boosters.”

  As he’d thought, the Kep hugged the left wall when it was within a few metres of the bacteria on the right. As before, it was fluorescent, making Gaston wonder if the Keps had planted modified bacteria deliberately for its lighting effects but it had mutated. The Kep hovered for a moment then shot ahead faster than he’d observed any of them move.

  Two mornings later, they were at the lakeside. Gaston had pulled the two women behind trees to be out of sight of the Kep.

  “Delta, can our Kep hear us, read our minds or whatever? I have a problem with this coziness.”

  She peered around the trunk of what appeared to be a large, vertical cucumber. The Kep waited for them hovering over the surface of the lake a couple of metres off shore. “I wonder if it’s looking for those water snake things we saw on our way here?

  “To answer your question, I’ve no idea. You’d think I would after all these days of being in close proximity, but apart from an absurdly small vocabulary of click-to-English our CAN uploaded to my brain, second-hand from its flitter sources, I can’t have a discussion with it. Up, down, safe, danger…that kind of thing. Why what’s your problem?”