“Our computers address us by our first names, so they identify it’s really us,” she said.
“Hey, do you remember what Klunk-man told us to do when we have an operations question we can’t find an answer for?” Nako asked suddenly.
We looked at each other.
“Ask yourself the question!” We shouted and high-fived.
“We have memory bank implants,” Nako said. “So let’s use them. What’s the question?”
I stared at the glowing console.
“How do we wake up the computer?”
“I got it,” she exclaimed. “There’s even an operations manual.” Nako’s eyes widened. “It needs to be me that does it.”
She hopped into the seat and slid her hand into the control glove.
“The glove is tingling,” she told me.
“Of course it is,” I replied. “The power’s on.”
“Hello computer,” she said. “I am Nako.”
The console lit up immediately.
“Hello, XO,” the carefully modulated tones of a woman said.
“What did it call you?” I asked.
“XO stands for Executive Officer. Remember? I’m second-in-command.”
“Got it.”
“It’s a good sign,” Nako said. “It recognizes me in that role.”
“Let’s test that theory,” I told her. “Computer, this is Atoma. What is our present location?”
“I cannot tell you,” the computer said.
“Why not?” I asked, already knowing the answer and feeling a little peeved.
“Only the commanding officer can ask those questions. You are not she.”
“Jacinda is dead,” Nako told the computer.
“The mission commander was alive when she left this craft,” the computer said.
“Well, she’s not alive now.”
“I’m sorry to hear that,” the computer said.
“It’s so damn polite,” I muttered.
“I must keep calm in times of stress,” the computer said.
We looked at each other.
“You answered me then,” I said to the computer.
“I chose to engage with your comment,” the computer replied. “Adding productively to a conversation that does not entail giving away secrets is allowed. I can only answer questions directed at me from the mission commander. That is the difference.”
“Is that it?” I asked Nako.
“XO, you must now enter the commander’s password. You have one minute before I enter sleep mode,” the computer prompted.
Nako sighed.
“Shit, do I know the password to the commander’s computer,” she said, and her eyes immediately widened.
“I know it!”
She tapped the sequence of letters and numbers into the console.
“The password is recognized,” the computer told her. “Hello, Commander.”
Nako gave me a thumbs up.
“What is our present location?” She asked.
“The command capsule is located two miles from the edge of TP2’s North Pole, the band closest to the outer rim of the planet.”
Nako and I stared at each other.
“Well, that sounded bizarre,” Nako exclaimed.
“Since when did planet Earth have a rim?” I asked her.
“What is TK2?” Nako asked the computer.
“TK2 is the cataloging name used for the planet also known as Attaapa. It is a very rare toroid planet in a binary star system called Chaos-1. Attaapa orbits a brown dwarf star that in turn orbits the main star, a much larger body that best fits within the orange dwarf category. By comparison with Earth’s Sun, this orange dwarf has only fifty-six-point-eight percent the mass. The total energy output of the two stars together offers optimum conditions for life on this planet.”
“The planet Attaapa,” I said, in a state of shock.
“And I added it is a rare toroid shaped planet,” the computer confirmed.
“Are you saying we are, right now, on a planet that orbits two suns, a brown dwarf, and an orange dwarf?” Nako asked.
“Yes,” the computer confirmed. “You are now on planet Attaapa.”
“You mean this isn’t even our solar system?” Nako wailed.
“You are correct, Mission Commander—Mission Commander, I detect your heart rate has now exceeded one hundred beats per minute. May I suggest that you breathe deeply for a minute?”
28
Attaapa the Donut Planet
“How far are we from Earth?” Nako asked.
“Attaapa is approximately twenty-six light years from Earth. It has a toroid shape. That is highly unusual for a planet, Commander.”
Nako slumped against back in the seat.
“You okay?” I asked.
“Computer, please explain. What is a toroid planet?”
“Allow me to show you,” the computer said.
“Yes, go ahead,” Nako replied.
She turned her head to wipe at her eyes and glanced back at me.
“No wonder they wouldn’t tell us anything before we left,” she said.
A blue and orange 3D image flickered above the console. It resolved into three bright lights. The computer zoomed in further and we saw a huge, dark, and yet faintly glowing orb. We were zoomed in once more and saw a brightly colored body that sparkled like a jewel. As we zoomed in ever closer we saw the bright body resolved into an odd thick and quite solid hoop of orange, white, green, and blue.
“You mean we are right now sitting on a donut?” Nako wailed
“There is some likeness between this planet and a donut but it is not a helpful description—” the computer began.
“Accurate enough,” Nako exclaimed. “It’s not a real planet. It’s a fucking asteroid!”
“A bite from a donut reveals a rounded cross-section,” the computer explained. “If you bit into this planet you would see it is not round but instead it is egg-shaped. The pointier end of the egg is the outer circumference known as the rim. The rounded end of the egg is where you find the hole through the center known as the hub.”
“Why the weird shape? And tell us simply without mathematics.”
“I don’t mind the math,” I interrupt.
“Shut up!” Nako snapped at me. “I’m mission commander and I get to talk to the computer.”
Wow. So, this is Nako when she’s panicking.
“I will keep it simple, Commander. The shape of the planet indicates it was most likely artificially constructed. However, no matter how it came into existence, it remains quite stable. It has existed for millions of years and will most likely continue to exist for millions of years into the future.”
“Ask how it keeps this weird shape?” I ask Nako.
I don’t know why I ask such a mundane question under the circumstances, but I really want to know the answer. I want to make sense of everything, otherwise, I am going to turn into a raving nutcase.
“Computer, how does it keep the donut shape?” Nako asked.
“I will simplify my explanation so you understand, Commander.”
“Oh, that’s thoroughly decent of you,” Nako murmurs, and she hits her head with the palm of her hand.
“The rapid rotation of Attaapa is much faster than Earth’s spin. The rate of spin means the planet wants to flatten into a disc shape. However, the force that throws everything outwards is counteracted by the gravity pulling everything into the center. The force of gravity makes Attaapa want to be a ball. In other words, the centrifugal force balances the force of gravity. Attaapa keeps its donut shape rather than flying apart or forming a ball.”
“Who or what would be able to make a planet?” Nako asked.
“That information is classified, Commander.”
“Oh, come on! That’s ridiculous.”
“There has been no other toroidal planet discovered, and since we know only one toroid planet exists, we must conclude there are others.”
“Is Attaapa hollow?”
“Attaapa is a real planet with a molten metal core deep beneath the crust. The result of having a spinning molten core is that it has a magnetic field shielding the surface from most of the radioactivity coming from the binary stars and outer space. The spinning molten core produces the magnetic field, and the field protects from the worst radiation. This is the reason life exists on the surface.”
“Was it the original designers of the planet that put life on the surface?” I asked.
The computer did not answer me.
“How did life originate on this planet?” Nako asked.
“That information is classified, Commander.”
“Why?” Nako exclaimed in frustration. “Oh, never mind.”
“Computer, what is this mission about?” I asked.
“I am sorry I can’t answer that question. I can only respond to questions from the Mission Commander.”
“Oh, for goodness’ sake!” I snapped.
“What’s the objective of this mission?” Nako asked.
“Now that you have arrived on the surface of the planet, I can tell you the mission objective and your instructions. This information must be relayed to the mission team.”
“I’m listening,” Nako said.
“Your objective is to make contact with the intelligent and human-like species known as the Kai and establish a bond of trust and understanding. Once you gain their trust, you must absorb their customs for as long as you stay alive.”
“How do we find them?” She asked.
“They will make contact with you,” the computer replied.
“What if they kill us instead?”
“A hostile response to your uninvited arrival is always a possibility,” the computer said.
“Is this a suicide mission?” Nako asked
“A hostile response to your presence is possible but not expected from the Kai.”
“That’s nice to know,” I told Nako.
“Your team was selected on the basis of attributes the Kai consider relatively non-threatening.”
“So, the locals might kill us?” I asked Nako.
“Are the Kai dangerous?” Nako asked the computer.
“I am afraid they are known to be defensive and aggressive if provoked, Commander. For this reason, your team must learn the Kai language quickly to understand their rules and avoid making mistakes. The language augmentation you have all received will help you to accomplish this objective.”
“Learn the language or die,” I said. “Whoever dreamed up this mission was a sadist.”
“I suggest you focus on the Kai tradition of generosity and courtesy extended to guests they consider safe,” the computer continued. “While they think of outsiders as alien, I calculate the chance they would hurt a young female to be less than five percent. Even an alien female. That is based on the gathered data. Most of which is unfortunately outside your level of security clearance, Commander.”
“But why we are here,” Nako said. “What is our role title? Knowing that much will give us a clue.”
“You are emissaries from Earth Incorporated.”
“Explain, please.”
“You are representatives of the interests of Earth Inc. As such, you are required to mix with the natives so you can learn from them about this planet. The team objective is to collect as much information about Attaapa as possible before the exploration team arrives.”
“Is there really a team coming to join us? Does the computer know how we get back home?” I asked Nako.
“Would you like me to answer those questions, Commander?”
“Is the sky blue or the sea green?” Nako replied.
“Are you making a joke, or is that sarcasm I detect, Commander?”
Nako rolls her eyes.
“Oh, just answer the question.”
“The next mission is scheduled to arrive one Earth year from today.”
“One year?” I asked. “To the day? A whole year spent living with aliens who might be hostile?”
“Computer, what is the bigger picture?” Nako asked.
“I am sorry, Commander. I don’t understand your question. Please rephrase it.”
“Why would they send us here, and why send us now?”
“Each Inc. has planned a large-scale technological project for this planet,” the computer said.
“Do they plan to bring everything they need through a wormhole?”
“No,” the computer said. “There’s a variety of issues they are working through.”
“Such as?”
“The gravity around the hole of the donut presents the biggest problem. The solution is to use the native inhabitants as labor because they are optimally suited to the conditions.”
“You the Kai?” Nako asked.
“Initially, the project needs Kai help, Commander. I cannot give you any more information on that topic.”
“Why is gravity a problem?” Nako asked.
“The band around the hole of the donut, or the hub, in other words, has a gravity over three times that of Earth.”
The floating 3D image above the console flashed, and we saw the red band glow around the hole in the center of the donut.
“The red-glowing area is known as the hub zone,” the computer said.
“And what is this project going to be about?” Nako asked the computer.
“I am not able to tell you any details about the project, Commander.”
“What is the aim of the project?”
“That information is classified above your security level.”
“You can’t tell me anything about the project?” Nako asked incredulously.
“Correct. It is not necessary for you to have that information.”
“How are we supposed to earn the alien’s trust if we can’t tell them why we’re here?” I asked Nako.
“How do we earn their trust, Computer?”
“You would be wise not to mention the project to the Kai, Commander. Do not mention tell them an expeditionary force will land in the near future.”
“Is that force as in Air force?” I asked Nako. “Or as in Space force?”
“Computer, what did you mean when you said force?” Nako asked.
Lights flashed across the console, but the computer didn’t answer.
“You did use the word force, didn’t you?” Nako prompted. “Computer?”
“I am sorry, Commander. That was an internal error. I intended to use the word team. I will need to do another system check to locate the damage. My circuits are not working as they should be.”
“That can wait, computer. You will continue to answer my questions.”
“Of course, Commander. I will perform a complete system check when you both leave the capsule.”
“So if it’s not a military force, it must be more like a bunch of scientists, right?” I asked Nako.
“Answer that last question,” Nako commanded of the computer.
There was no reply.
“Computer, are we to expect the arrival of Space force or other military types?” She persisted.
“The information you request is available on a need-to-know basis only.”
“And only you determine our need to know?” Nako asked.
“That is correct, Commander.”
“Let’s go,” I told her. “There’s nothing more we can find out from it.”
“Commander,” the computer said.
“What?” Nako snapped.
“When the wormhole opens once again, I am able to answer the other questions asked. When you leave the capsule, I will close the hatch and seal it. I will open it again when the new wormhole appears. This is scheduled to happen one Earth year from today.”
29
Vicious Trees
“Let’s make sure she is not lying unconscious under a bush before we leave,” I suggested.
“Good idea,” Nako said. “How do you think we should set about it?”
“You take the top end of the caps
ule and walk out a hundred feet,” I told her. “We circle back one hundred and eighty degrees.”
“And if we don’t find anything?” She asked.
“We work our way back to this point again,” I told her. “That way we know we’ve covered the ground close to the capsule.”
“That’s way too complicated,” she told me. “Let’s stick together.”
“It will take ages if we cover the same ground together,” I said.
“Better that than losing sight of each other,” she told me.
“We are in a glade, Nako. We aren’t going to lose sight of each other if we stay within one hundred feet of the capsule.”
“I have a feeling we are being watched,” she said, lowering her voice. “I’m not talking about Jacinda either. A single pair of eyes might miss a clue along the way. It’s better we stick together.”
Was it fear I was picking up from my new mission commander?
“You’re right,” I sigh and we start off walking shoulder-to-shoulder, one looking to the right, and the other looking to the left.
We were walking on a carpet of soft woven tendrils. Whenever we lifted our feet, we saw the small rubbery leaves had turned gelatinous.
“Should be easy to see her footprints,” I said looking behind me. “But it looks like she has disappeared.”
“Yes,” Nako said. “Looks to me like her boot prints only show in the broken ground around the capsule.”
I turned and froze.
“You find something?” She said turning to look.
I pointed at the ground.
The plant mass covering the soil was creeping over the damage our boots had left behind. Tiny plant tendrils wound over our indentations, patching the wounds caused by each of our step we had taken. Our boot prints were disappearing before our eyes.
“We are not going to find which way she went by looking at the ground,” Nako said. “We may as well be looking for her body instead. How many times have you searched for a missing person in the forest?” She asked.
“Never,” I admitted.
“This is going to be impossible,” Nako said.
“Difficult,” I said. “But not impossible.”
Odd bushes with a thick central stem stood like ivy covered posts scattered about in the glade. I hadn’t noticed there were so many when we found the capsule. Glossy blue leafed fronds sprouted from the top of each to fall over the trunk.
Atoma and the Blockchain Game Page 11