New Eden

by Kishore Tipirneni

  Loc: Somewhat. We can communicate with other individuals and they to us, but this is not automatic. It’s purposeful.

  Rem: Purposeful. Does this mean that you can restrict the thought flow to certain members of your collective just as I can?

  Loc: Precisely.

  “It’s good to know we have something in common,” Joshua said with a laugh. “He’s implied that they have at least some degree of individuality.”

  Rem: How many other individuals in your collective?

  “Don’t answer that!” Joshua exclaimed before Vinod started typing. “There’s some information that I don’t think we should divulge just yet. Revealing our social structure or our level of technological advancement could skew this conversation or, at the very least, produce a cosmic misunderstanding.”

  “I’m in total agreement,” Rachael said. “It’s our first date, so let’s not rush the relationship.”

  “Okay,” Vinod responded. “From now on, I’ll type out a response but won’t send it unless you two are cool with it. I’ve got an answer for our boy Seth, though,” Vinod said as he typed away. “Short and ambiguous.”

  Loc: Numerous.

  “Nice response, Vinod,” Rachael said. “Ask Seth about life on other planets. It is, after all, what humans have been wondering since astronomy became a recognized science and the existence of planets was discovered by the Greeks and other ancient cultures.”

  Loc: Is there life on other planets besides yours?

  Rem: Thousands more planets.

  The trio stared in shock at the response on the screen. It consisted of only three words, but despite their brevity, they had completely displaced human understanding of mankind’s place in the universe. Shocking as this information was at the moment, it would take months, if not years, for the implications of these words to sink in once the discovery of Seth’s race was revealed, which was another matter altogether. Humanity would never be the same. They were not alone, but the trio’s shock was interrupted by another message from Seth.

  Rem: Is your collective all on one planet?

  “Don’t think we should answer that either,” Joshua said, stepping back with a pensive look on his face.

  “How about we answer their question with a question,” Rachael suggested. “It’s a standard ploy used by reporters.”

  Loc: Is your collective all on one planet?

  Rem: No, thousands of planets.

  “Shit!” Vinod exclaimed. “Is everyone else part of the collective besides us?”

  “Didn’t see that coming,” Rachael said. “Space travel? Maybe truly advanced beings have mastered superluminal velocities if the collective has spread throughout whatever galaxy they inhabit. Maybe they’ve discovered physics that Einstein and mankind are unaware of. Or maybe they can travel through wormholes.”

  “Like an Einstein-Rosen bridge,” Vinod chimed in.

  “Not necessarily,” Joshua said. “Recall your own theory, Rachael, of a cosmic quarantine built into creation. Perhaps these thousands of other worlds are only connected via spookyons.”

  “I never envisioned a network that large,” Rachael said, “but I suppose it’s only limited by the number of primordial spookyons, which may be almost unlimited in quantity.”

  Loc: Are all of the planets with life part of your collective?

  Rem: No.

  Loc: How many planets with life are part of your collective?

  Rem: Can’t tell you that. That information is redacted.

  “Well, I guess there’s some stuff Seth doesn’t want to tell us either,” Joshua said. “They can play it close to the vest too.”

  Another question arrived from Seth, one that was more personal in nature.

  Rem: How many other individuals know about this conversation?

  Loc: No others yet.

  Rem: Have you made contact with life beyond your planet before?

  Loc: No. You are our first.

  Rem: Wow! Really? I’m honored to be your first contact. So happy to meet you!

  “Very polite,” Rachael remarked feeling a little more at ease. “But you two inadvertently revealed a lot about us by admitting that we’ve never made contact with anyone else outside of our solar system. Makes it sound like we’re the new kids on the block—and maybe we are. That may hold some significance for them, be it for good or ill.”

  “Yeah,” Joshua agreed. “We did let the cat out of the bag. But he seems to show emotion as well, so maybe he’s just being friendly and is sincere in his response. He’s almost human-like. Vinod, ask Seth how they know about DNA.”

  Loc: How do you understand deoxyribonucleic acid?

  Rem: We are made of cells that use DNA. All organic life we know of is made from DNA or a derivative. I’m assuming that you are the same?

  “Wow!” Rachael exclaimed. “They’re made out of cells like us! And he said all life. He just answered the question posed by a few million scientists and biologists.”

  “Man, thousands of planets with life, and they’re all based on DNA,” Vinod remarked. “How’s that possible? Given the size of the universe, I would have bet money that at least some intelligent life was based on other chemical elements and biological structures that we couldn’t begin to fathom.”

  “A case of parallel evolution,” Joshua remarked. “Many scientists think that all life must be carbon-based because of its unique bonding properties. It’s really the only element that can form the complex molecules needed for life, like nucleic acids, which make up DNA. Since that’s the likely scenario everywhere, I think it’s safe to answer his query.”

  Loc: Yes, we are DNA-based.

  Rem: Have you achieved self-determination?

  “What the hell does that mean?” asked Vinod.

  “It’s both vague and philosophical,” Rachael interjected.

  “I don’t know what it means,” Joshua replied. “Are we still talking about DNA? Let’s see if we can get him to narrow his question a bit.”

  Loc: Do not understand what you mean by self-determination.

  Rem: Can you reorder your DNA sequence to change your physical properties?

  “You’ve got to be shitting me,” Vinod said. “What do I tell him?”

  “The truth,” Joshua said. “I think we need to press him on this issue.”

  Loc: No. Can you?

  Rem: Yes.

  “What the hell, man?” Vinod remarked. “They freakin’ code their own DNA? That’s some heavy shit!”

  “Remarkable,” Joshua commented under his breath. “Seth said that each individual in their collective contains many spookyons. If they can code their DNA and control cellular structure, their interface with these spookyons may be biologic in nature.”

  “Josh, what’re you saying?” Rachael asked. “You think they have some biologic structures inside of themselves—maybe their very cells—capable of interfacing with spookyons?”

  “I think so,” Joshua replied. “Their technology might be biologically-based, especially if they can manipulate DNA sequences and create whatever biologic structures they want.”

  “Sounds like these beings are millions of years ahead of us,” Rachael said.

  Giving Rachael a somber look, Joshua turned to Vinod. “Try to find out more about their other technologies.”

  Loc: Besides self-determination, what other technologies do you possess?

  Rem: Many more.

  Loc: Like what?

  Rem: Also redacted. We have strict rules not to divulge technology that you do not already possess. Doing so could destabilize your society and lead to its destruction. Destroying other sentient societies is strictly against our ethical rules.

  “Whew, that’s good to know,” Vinod remarked. “Seth ain’t out to destroy us. It’s like the prime directive on Star Trek. No interference in the development of other cultures.”

  Loc: Understood.

  Joshua felt uneasy. “Guys, I think we should end this conversation here. We’re getting pretty dee
p, and I think we should consult some other people on exactly how to respond further. They don’t know where we are, which is a big relief, but maybe we shouldn’t keep playing twenty questions with him—or them.”

  “Agreed,” Rachael said. “Small steps are in order.”

  Loc: We have to end this conversation now. We will contact you sometime later.

  Rem: No problem. I’ll wait for you. Peace out.

  Joshua unplugged the detector from the computer, and the sphere stopped glowing.

  “Holy shit, man,” Vinod remarked. “That was some heavy stuff. Can’t believe it! We just had a chat session with a freakin’ alien! Maybe the early Internet and Instant Messages weren’t so weird and archaic after all.”

  “What’s our next step?” Rachael asked.

  “I suppose we need to report this to someone,” Joshua replied thoughtfully. We can’t sit on this kind of information for very long. Plus he said he’ll be waiting for us.”

  “Yeah, but who do we tell?” Vinod asked.

  “I have no idea,” Rachael answered. “My brain is fried right now. Too much stuff to process.”

  “I agree,” Joshua said as he stood up and started disconnecting and packing the sphere and detector. “I think we should sleep on it and come at this fresh in the morning.”

  Vinod looked mildly shocked. “Sleep? Who can sleep after this?” he asked as he got up from his chair. “No, no, no. We just talked to aliens, man. Aliens! We made first contact and my algorithm worked! If that’s not a reason to celebrate, I don’t know what is.”

  “What’re you talking about Vinod?” Rachael asked as she also got up from her chair. “This isn’t Animal House. We can’t even begin to take in what just happened. It’s a sobering moment.”

  “Sober? Wrong! Man, it’s Friday night and there’s a classic rock band playing at the Rock Candy. I’m going, and you two are coming with me. We need to clear our heads.”

  “Clear our heads or numb our heads?” Rachael asked.

  “Both,” Vinod replied. “We’ll kill two birds with one stone. We can sleep after a little self-administered anesthesia.”

  Rachael thought for a moment and turned to Joshua. “Not much more we’re going to do tonight. I’m game if you are.”

  Joshua stared back and forth between Vinod and Rachael, who waited for a response. “Sure, why not? I think we could all use a break, plus I’m too wired to sleep anyway. I’d toss and turn all night, wondering about what happens next. I’ll call the security team from the lab to pick up the sphere and take it back to the facility. But nobody’s allowed to speak a word of this to anyone until we figure out what to do next. Okay?”

  “Deal.” Vinod stood up and gave the others a high-five. “Oh, it’s on baby! It’s on!”

  17

  Oh, What a Night

  A team from the particle center retrieved the carrying case with the Bowman sphere, and although Joshua was reluctant to let it out of his sight, he knew that Vinod and Rachael were right: he needed a break, and the sphere and detector would be in good hands and protected by numerous safety measures at the center. He’d been hesitant to take it to Angelino’s and toting it to the Rock Candy Dance Club was out of the question.

  Rachael called an Uber since the words “party” and “numb” had been used together after their conversation with Seth had left them reeling. Joshua sat in front, Rachael in the back with Vinod who was moving his head front to back in time to the music like a mechanized bobble-head after he’d convinced the driver to tune the vehicle’s radio to a classic rock station. He seemed particularly enthusiastic when David Bowie’s “Space Oddity” came on.

  “Major Tom,” he said. “Now that’s a name! Much cooler than Seth. I’ve been thinking that I need to upload rock’s greatest hits for the collective. I’m sure they’d really dig it. It says a lot about the twentieth century as well as human culture in general.”

  “I won’t argue the point,” Rachael said, “but it’s not going to happen. He chose Seth, and Seth he will remain. As for giving them classic rock, it might cause more confusion than enlightenment. What would they make of a title like ‘Grow Some Funk of Your Own’?”

  “I call it a meaningful cultural exchange,” Vinod said with wry humor, “but whatever.”

  “Collective? Rock music? Are you guys modern-day hippies?” the driver asked. “Do you belong to a commune?”

  “Uh, yeah,” Joshua replied. “Trying to get off the grid. It’s a modern Woodstock thing.”

  The answer seemed to satisfy the driver, who asked no further questions.

  Twenty minutes later, the trio were deposited in front of a three-story brick warehouse that had been converted to the Rock Candy Dance Club. Outside, the name of the establishment was written in bright script neon letters, orange and red, slanted at a forty-five-degree angle. The rain had finally stopped, but the streets were still wet.

  “That’s a really long line,” Joshua said, eyeing patrons who were in a queue that extended to the end of the block and around the corner. “We won’t get inside until after three, and that means the sun will be up when we leave. Remember that tomorrow we need to—”

  “You worry too much, doc,” Vinod said as he grabbed Rachael’s hand and pulled her past the long line of people, many of whom looked resentful at the brashness of the young man and his friends. “I frequent this watering hole a lot, and I have a connection or two. The club has great music, by the way. Live bands and a DJ—a friend of mine—and that never hurts when one wants to . . . gain an advantage.”

  At the front of the line, a young man with blond hair pulled into a long ponytail motioned to Vinod and the others with a jerk of his head that they could go in—to the chagrin of those next in line.

  “Thanks, dude,” Vinod said, slipping the man a hundred-dollar bill as their hands brushed in a loose handshake. “Who’s playing tonight?”

  “New female band. Hearts of Glass. Not bad.”

  “Party!” Vinod cried as they entered. “We’re getting bottle service tonight, and Joshua, my friend, you are definitely buying.”

  “Me? But this was your idea, and—”

  Joshua’s voice was quickly drowned out by loud music—a DJ was playing “Rubber Band Man” by the Spinners—and the ambient noise of the club, which was packed with dancers and people laughing, talking, and mingling.

  The wooden support beams of the warehouse were covered with mirrors and panels of geometrically-shaped lights. The walls were black, although certain sections were covered by large rectangular light panels with amorphous, slowly-changing shapes, like fluids of different viscosity mixing together. Small spotlights on the ceiling were trained on the crowd but changed colors and were re-aimed every few minutes by a man standing next to the DJ in a loft on the right.

  A hostess, a young woman with pink hair and a miniskirt—and obviously a friend of Vinod—escorted the party of three to a table in front of a padded U-shaped booth.

  “Gray Goose and shot glasses, Star,” Vinod said, “and keep ‘em coming. Start us off with three beers to get us warmed up.”

  The music faded as Hearts of Glass took the stage, strapped on their guitars, and broke into their signature number, which was “Crushed by Your Love.”

  “Place has a nice vibe,” Joshua said in a loud voice so as to be heard over the mounting decibels. “Nice call, Vinod.”

  Rachael shot him a look, surprised that he could have an opinion one way or the other about a night club. “How would you know? You’re the mad, spooky scientist locked away in his lab day and night.”

  “I do have a life, you know. If you recall, I ride a Harley. All work and no play makes Josh a dull boy.”

  “The man has potential as a first-rate party animal after all, Rach,” Vinod said with an approving look. “It’s like my grandmother used to say.” Sitting up straight and adopting a serious demeanor, he spoke with an Indian accent. “Beta, you must mark special occasions with a celebration. Rituals do not alwa
ys need to be somber.”

  “Somehow I don’t think that a night club with bottle service and loud music is what your grandmother had in mind,” Rachael said.

  “Obviously you’ve never met my grandmother.”

  As the evening wore on, they downed shots of vodka, and Vinod grew more talkative by the minute.

  “Livin’ the dream!” Vinod exclaimed, spreading his arms across the top of the booth. “Does it get any better than this? And to think we talked with Seth! Man, we have to go with the flow on that. No turning back. I’d like to download information from all thirteen trillion members of the collective. Might need more drives in my rack,” he said with a laugh, “but think of what we’d learn. Maybe they’ve figured out the big picture.”

  “Speaking of going with the flow,” Joshua said, “what do you guys think should be our next step?”

  “I still don’t know,” Rachael replied. “I thought we were here to clear out heads so we could make a decision in the morning. Do we really have to talk shop?”

  “I have the perfect idea,” Vinod said, clearly buzzed as he took out his phone. “I’m gonna tweet this bad boy out right here and now. Why wait?”

  Like a monster’s claw from a horror movie, Rachael’s hand grabbed the phone from Vinod and held it in front of her face.

  “Hey, what’re you—”

  “No way you’re going to share this with—” Rachael glanced quickly at the screen of her friend’s phone. “. . . all seven of your followers.” She deftly wedged the phone in a slim side compartment of her purse.

  “But that’s my phone!”

  “Please keep that thing away from him,” Joshua pleaded. “We had a deal that everything that happened would stay among us until we decided what to do next.”

  One of the spotlights played across the booth, turning from white to blue in the process.