Space for Evolution

by Zurab Andguladze

  Then Mafkona noticed the disassembled block. “They came out of the water, and I am no longer needed there,” she said, answering their unspoken question. “Also, we have no screens today, and they sent me here to inquire about the session. And you, as I see it, are still far from coping with the breakdown. Are you having difficulties?”

  “No, we are ready to broadcast,” Memi answered, and began telling the girl about the clogged cable and the inconsistent SOC-5.

  While listening, Mafkona leaned back against the table. Without looking, her hand found the lens and pushed it. The glass part slid away from her, and she jerked her hand back, reeling, to try and keep her balance. Meanwhile the lens slipped off the edge of the table fell to the ceramic-metal floor and broke into three large and countless small pieces.

  Stunned, the young people couldn’t tear their gazes from the scattered fragments glittering in the lamplight. Then, after sometime, Mafkona interrupted the silence, “What did I break? Is that part of the interstellar radio?”

  Dme frowned and pointed at the device, “That lens magnifies a telescopic image of the starry sky and projects it onto this optical matrix. Only after processing this enlarged image can a computer aim the antenna at Earth.”

  “The SOC-5 will not start a session if the antenna is not aimed. And that breakage means we have lost a very important part,” Fom added thoughtfully.

  “Can it be replaced or dispensed with?” the girl asked hopefully.

  “No, but let us inquire of the GPC-5 anyway,” Memi uttered.

  He asked the computer a corresponding question, and in response, the machine gave them the expected answer, saying that its memory only contained the properties of the lens and the methods of its manufacture. There was no spare magnifier on the list of instruments belonging to the expedition. The colonists had mastered it long ago—if the earthlings were to have supplied the expeditions with spare parts, they would have had to send two ships to each constellation—the second one would have carried the repair kit.

  “We should look for a way out again,” Mafkona sighed in embarrassment, when she read the GPS-5’s response.

  “And we should all get together again,” Memi said, “and you shall return and call them,” he addressed to the girl.

  Mafkona cast one attentive glance at her comrades and silently headed for the exit. On the radio, Memi invited the rest of the colonists to the dining room. The girl returned, remembering that due to the broken lens she’d forgotten to ask about the previous sessions.

  Chapter 45

  The fragment of the parachute, once protecting the classroom, aka the refectory, from bad weather and heat, had completely decomposed over the past twenty years. Now the branches of the apple trees, intertwined with each other, served as a roof over the tables. Another piece of the heat-resistant fabric, earlier stretched over the kitchen, had been replaced a couple of years previously by the remaining spare section of parachute, because there was nothing else nearby that could create a shadow or a covering over it.

  The branches and leaves didn’t stop the heavy rain, and it easily seeped through them. In that way, every rainy day prepared the young men and women for a secluded existence, accustoming them to the idea that soon they would live as separate families. Rain was forcing them to take food from the kitchen and leave for their homes. The era of joint meals had come to an end.

  After Memi’s call not much time had passed, and, as befits a disciplined group, all thirty inhabitants of the planet Neia gathered in the shade of the apple trees. Each of them sat at the table and waited to hear the reason why they’d had to come. Memi stood up and began to speak. Some of his comrades pivoted their chairs towards him, others simply turned to see his face.

  “First, we determined the cause of the malfunction and fixed it,” the young man said. “In the optical fiber cable, or rather, in its connector, there was just dirt, and therefore the cable could not pass light. That was all that prevented the signal from being sent.”

  “How did the dirt get into the connector?”Ifi, a girl with tanned skin, black eyes, and thick eyebrows, asked.

  “We do not know for sure,” Memi began to explain. “We simply assumed that this happened during the assembly of the radio line, because it has never been disassembled since then.”

  He gave the listeners time to assimilate this information, and continued, “So, this channel has always been out of order. Thus, no signal has ever been sent from Neia to Earth.”

  Memi took a pause again for a while, and then told them that it seemed the SOC-5 was broken, at least partially.

  When he’d finished his report, Kuf, a tall, fair-haired girl, interpreted this as the end of his speech and asked, “What damaged the SOC-5, did you ascertain that too?"

  “We did not,” Memi answered, “We just cleaned the cable of the mud and from that moment the line was ready for the transmission.”

  Kam, a broad-shouldered young man with brown hair and massive features, having heard this, intervened in their conversation: “Why did you say that it was ready? Is not the line ready now?"

  “We decided, since there was still enough time before the session, to check whether we could also easily eliminate the malfunction in the SOC-5. During this work, a crystal lens broke accidentally,” Memi explained.

  Dme saw that this explanation didn’t fully enlighten his comrades, and added, “The optical matrix cannot receive the image of the stellar sky without this magnifier, and so the SOC-5 will not begin the transmission. The GPC-5 reports that there is only one way out of this situation; we need a new lens.”

  "How did it break, in itself?" Gimi demanded more details.

  “I broke it,” Mafkona said. “I pushed it and threw it off the table.”

  “Then this did not happen by accident,” Bame uttered, “but because of Mafkona’s inattention.”

  “Mafkona is not the only cause of what happened,” Dme said after short pause. “We opened the SOC-5 hastily, without any need, although we could have done it after the session.”

  Ama specified, “Memi, what is the solution? Did you ask the GPC-5?”

  “Yes, I did. The machine said we should find a piece of rock crystal and cut another lens out of it.”

  “Why crystal?” Daf asked. “What if we make it out of transparent plastic?”

  “First of all, we do not have a piece of plastic thick enough to cut out a lens of the required curvature from it,” Fom began to explain. “Second, the GPC-5 told us that compared to other materials crystal is the most suitable substitute for glass.”

  “So we have to find deposits of this mineral, bring it here, make a lens and all this in three days?” Dme summed up.

  Ama supplemented the reasoning of his comrade: “If we had a chunk of crystal of the required size, how long would it take to make a lens?”

  He turned to Memi.

  The latter scratched his nape, then contacted the computer and, a few seconds later, began to read out loud the explanation he received: “Cutting a spheroid with a radius of twelve centimeters on a lathe will take about three hours. Bringing it to the required shape and polishing it will take from five to seven hours; a total of eight to ten hours of continuous operation.”

  “Why did the designers not use the camera to transmit the image from the telescope to the optical receiver in the necessary form? Then we would not have needed such a fragile detail,” Hafa asked, and waved her hand, as if she had thrown an insect off the table.

  “It is wrong to keep the camera for decades in the rain, in the heat or who knows in what unknown weather conditions on a distant planet,” Fom turned to the girl. “In addition, the camera needs energy and wiring, and the optical fiber does not require such complexities. They decided that it would be simpler, and therefore more reliable.”

  “So, we need to find out where crystal is located on our planet,” Arfina concluded in the colonists’ habitual even accent. “If the natural glass deposit is very far away or located on another co
ntinent, we must forget about it and look for another way out. If the crystal can be obtained somewhere nearby, then it makes sense to seek it.”

  At this moment a gentle gust of wind came over the settlement and shook the branches of the apple trees. The next second a big red-sided fruit fell on the table right in front of Bame’s face. The youth flinched and immediately began to speak, as if this sudden and sharp knock had helped him overcome his indecision.

  “The SQP has lasted for centuries, being the only hope of mankind to change its habitat, and now, due to the negligence of one person, it is on the verge of elimination,” he said loudly, glancing at Mafkona.

  At first the girl sat as if stiffened, but gradually amazement began to appear on her face. The others also turned to Bame, looking at him with curiosity.

  Arfina spoke to him: “Bame, your behavior is wrong. Our tutors, the RA-5 and the RB-5, always taught us that when a problem arose accidentally, we should think about how to find its solution and not to talk about the person who created it. In the other case they would themselves punish the deliberate wrongdoer.”

  Mafkona also added her opinion: “The outcome of our expedition cannot depend on one mishap. There was a sequence of defects—a clogged cable, a partially broken SOC-5—it is also accidental that we discovered these defects only now, at the last moment. What if Ama had not shown curiosity? Then we would have thought that the earthlings will surely learn about our existence in about twenty years. Maybe it started on Earth, three centuries ago, and you think that only one movement of my hand destroyed the fifth expedition for humanity. Your reasoning is inaccurate.”

  In response, Bame squinted at her and said stubbornly, “I do not agree with you, and I am saying that my reasoning is correct. Perhaps some long-term cosmic effects, about which people could not know at that time, damaged the SOC-5, but the loss of communication with Earth may happen because of you.”

  This time Mafkona just looked at him with incomprehension. Instead, Omis entered their unusual talk, noiselessly drumming his enormous fists against the table: “However that may be, we have little time and it is pointless to reduce it even more. Let us see where crystal may be found.”

  Chapter 46

  This time, Efe spoke with the GPC-5. The girl began her search along the following pathway: general characteristics of the planet—ore—minerals—crystal—nearby deposit. Almost without wasting time the GPC-5 sent a map of the colony’s environs on all screens and marked the desired point with a red circle.

  A comment followed it: “The distance from the colony to the nearest crystal deposit is 52 kilometers, the direction is north-north-west; the mineral is visible on the surface.”

  “Not on another continent, and within reach,” Ifi uttered.

  “Its proximity is not a surprise,” Fom reminded her. “The lander did not accidentally choose this place; among other things, it selected an area rich in ores and minerals.”

  “Now we need to find out,” Hemu said, entering the conversation, “whether we cover this distance in the remaining time. Let us clarify—how much do we have?” With these words, the youth looked at his UD.

  “What do you mean? Do we not have three days?” Fof wondered.

  Hemu explained, without taking his eyes off the screen, and pressing his fingers against the touch buttons, “I mean, we do not yet know how many hours are left until the earth date of ‘noon on August 3, 2492’.”

  Speaking these words, the young man simultaneously printed them on his screen. The GPC-5 replied, “The current date on Neia is the 35th year, the 117th day, eight hours and twenty-two minutes. Comparison of this time point with the current common date on Earth gives us—87 hours, 36 minutes and six seconds left before the expiration of the period given for contact. Should the GPC-5 display the countdown on the screens of your UDs?”

  Having received consent, the machine reflected the numbers on the screens of the settlers—87:35:57, then 87: 35: 56...

  “So what does it mean? When do we have to go for crystal?” Arfina asked, and looked around at her mates with her bright green eyes.

  “As Memi said, it takes ten hours to make a lens, so seventy-seven hours remain to deliver the crystal,” Caf said. “If we leave at dawn, we will have to subtract from this time…” She glanced at her wrist. “Almost eight hours before Ro’s setting and fourteen hours of night time. In total, this gives us about fifty-five hours for the march.”

  The young people listened carefully to her, and the girl continued, because no one could count the numbers in their mind as fast as she could.

  “We cannot constantly walk during these fifty-five hours. We must subtract from them fourteen hours of night time. We also need to subtract the time required to find the crystal. The GPC-5 tells us that the mineral is on the surface, but who knows how long it will take to find a chunk of the proper size. Maybe we need two billets in all, just in case, to be sure.”

  Caf looked at her planet-mates. Nodding, they expressed their agreement. The girl proceeded with her reasoning: “Since we do not know anything about this, let us assume that the search for the crystal takes four hours. Of course, this is a long period of time, but the task is extremely important; therefore let us prepare for it thoroughly.”

  Her comrades also regarded these words with understanding.

  “Since during this trip we will spend a night outside the settlement, we need to take a raft-tent with us. Thus, we should also allot some time for its installation and dismantling, say, mmm-m, three hours. So, we have the following—fifty-five minus fourteen, minus four, minus three. That gives us a final result—thirty-four hours for the march itself.”

  This time she nevertheless used the calculator and then said, “one hundred and four kilometers divided on thirty four hours is practically equal to velocity of three kilometers per hour.”

  Still everyone just listened to her without interfering, and she went on, “In accordance with the rule, during the march we make a stop every two hours for thirty minutes, and as a result we will move at an average speed of three and a half kilometers per hour.”

  Caf used her screen again, after which she continued to speak, “All in all, after we’ve foreseen everything, we still have four spare hours in the disposal of this hike.”

  After a short silence needed to absorb this information, Arfina concluded: “So it seems that there are no insurmountable obstacles hindering the successful completion of this task.”

  Ama, like the others, had listened these reasoning carefully, and after Arfina’s words he objected almost immediately: “Your calculation, Caf, would be true if we were going to take a hike in the vicinity of the colony. But this time, our road will lead us to completely unknown places.”

  “In addition, we have not yet studied it,” Memi insisted.

  “This can be done right now,” Dme said, and sent the question to the GPC-5 through his screen.

  In response, the machine depicted on their screens some photographs and topographic data. From this information, they remembered what they had studied in their school time: starting from the colony, the relief constantly rose until it reached an unknown river, at a distance of about thirty kilometers.

  The other side of the water way was a flat territory with several hills on it. Near the third of them, twenty-two kilometers from the river, there was a deposit of the required mineral.

  “The river will not slow the march; in any case, we need to take a raft-tent with us,” Memi analyzed the information.

  Now the young people were even more confident that they would overcome the difficulty. Moreover, the problem had turned out to be not as complicated as they’d originally thought. They were about to start planning the next day’s expedition when Ama reminded them of his objection: “Listen to me. As I said, we do not know anything about this route. Therefore, I think we need to allocate as much time as possible for it. I believe that despite Caf’s calculations, we should go right away.”

  The colonists stared
at him with a question in their eyes. In response, Ama explained, “Caf supposed that we would walk through the familiar forest at the usual pace.”

  “But why do you think that the forest in that direction would be different from the forest in our area?” The girl wondered.

  “I do not know,” the young man answered. “But who knows what animals live there, on the other side of that river? How dangerous they might be? Nobody has killed or scared them in those places. How thick is the local forest? Can we walk through it as quickly as in familiar areas?”

  Silence reigned again, until Memi broke it: “You are right. Do you remember our first trip to the ocean five years ago?” Now he addressed all those present, “—then we also made a plan and calculated the time, but in fact the journey lasted much longer.”

  “I missed that,” Caf said, nodding in agreement.

  Ama glanced at her and continued, “Therefore, we need as much time as possible. If we pack our things now and go, we would save four, maybe even five hours. Who knows how important they might become afterwards?”

  Ama stopped and let his comrades weigh his offer. Then he added a few more sentences that made his listeners forget about the calm mood which they’d been in until that moment: “We can move in the light of Seler. The first part of the journey passes through familiar places, where we have walked many times, and where the animals have been destroyed or scared away. The sooner we go, the more chance we have for success.”

  After another short pause he added, with slightly altered voice, “As the rule says, a group put together for a sortie should consist of at least three people. Who will join me?”

  It seemed that these words had taken the young people by surprise. Silence fell again in the shade of the apple trees. Even the smallest sound of rustling leaves was heard, caused by a gust of light wind. Some of the colonists began to look around, as if they had seen their surroundings, illuminated by the bright rays of the afternoon, for the first time—the former lander covered with pale refractory slabs, several one-story houses, the wooden planks of which, yellowish earlier, had now become orange. Their tiled roofs, formerly beige, had turned brown. Green earthly grass had long since covered the courtyard of the residential zone. Only on the paths between the houses and in the gathering places was the dark yellow soil visible.