Helium 3: Fight for the Future

by Brandon Q. Morris

  The device wasn’t working. The small screen on the side was black.

  “And?” asked the Supreme Mother.

  “Sorry. To take measurements with it, we need the original, unfiltered light from the stars. For this purpose, we built a reflective segment that transports it back to us.”

  “You mean we can look outside with it?”

  “Yes, although the area of the sky is not very large. We could change it at the exit point, but we’d need computers to do that.”

  “And do you see anything?” asked the Supreme Mother.

  The Knowledge Guardian pointed to a glass plate. “The light is reflected on this plate. See for yourself.”

  The Supreme Mother leaned over the glass plate. “Nothing except a few stars,” she said. “That didn’t work.”

  “Nothing yet,” corrected the Supreme Guardian. “As the ship rotates, the visible section shifts. Just wait.”

  “You already know? You’ve already seen it?” asked the Supreme Navigator.

  “I don’t know what I saw. That’s why you have to see it yourself.”

  “Stop making things so...” The Supreme Mother stopped in the middle of the sentence and stared at the glass. “That... that’s impossible,” she said then.

  “It’s there.”

  “What? What?” asked the Supreme Navigator.

  “I... you have to see it yourself.”

  The Supreme Navigator stood right next to the Supreme Mother and looked at the glass. “But there’s nothing,” she said.

  “You have to be patient. The rotation of the ship...” said the Supreme Guardian.

  “There. Now I can see it.”

  The Supreme Navigator said nothing more and gave up her spot in front of the glass. Then she sat down on the floor, which was outrageous for an Iks of her rank to do.

  One after the other, the Supreme Leaders looked at the glass. They couldn’t believe what they saw.

  A young Iks entered. “I beg your pardon, but I have an urgent radio message to deliver,” he said.

  “Oh, is the radio working again?” asked the Supreme Conqueror.

  “No, just this one message.”

  “Well, out with it.”

  “I have to quote it from memory, since our memory storage systems aren’t working.”

  “Of course,” said the Supreme Mother. “Do you think we’re unaware of this?”

  The young Iks blushed. “The message is, ‘You are in a forbidden zone. All combat operations are to cease immediately.’”

  Ghosts of the past

  “The universe still has surprises in store. Well done, my dear Shra! You were right, and I have to admit that I was wrong—at least in this particular instance. But of course, I was right in principle, anyway! My theory is indeed confirmed here.”

  “Your pessimistic theory about the development prospects for intelligent life?”

  “Of course! Look at them! Two intelligent life forms that, against all expectations, made it into space before destroying themselves or being wiped out by a natural disaster. Just the luck of the draw, nothing more.

  “One of the species destroyed their home planet and their civilization in ongoing wars and, only thanks to much luck, were able to send a few individuals out for a one-way voyage in some crude vessels. The others were victims of a natural disaster that they managed to survive, at least for the time being, by way of a desperate last-ditch effort in a hollowed-out asteroid. Even if they hadn’t met, neither of them would have survived for much longer.

  “Sooner or later, the primitive ships would all have failed, and the asteroid ship might have lasted a few more generations before it also met its end. All of this confirms my thesis that intelligent life is inevitably short-lived and without a future, and is therefore extremely rare in the universe. Quod erat demonstrandum!”

  With a satisfied look on his face, Mart leaned back in the armchair situated before the flickering fireplace of a library. The walls of the tall but cozy room were lined with shelves full of thousands of books. There were only three things at odds with the image of an old English country manor’s library: there was no door leading into or out of the room; the ceiling formed a continuous hologram representing the Milky Way; and the solitary window was composed of several bullseye panes that didn’t look out over a well-kept English garden or the sloping tops of ancient trees, although it would have been easy enough for Mart to have added this last feature.

  Instead, there was a massive asteroid that was being attacked by several cylindrical spaceships that also appeared to be fighting among themselves. In between floated the scraps and ruins of several small flying machines. Only one of them appeared to still be intact, and was hovering over the moon, from the surface of which a thin rope stretched thousands of kilometers to the asteroid. Everything in the picture seemed frozen, and nothing moved. Even the scarcely discernable torpedoes that one of the ships had fired were motionless in space.

  “And yet these primitive species became a danger to us!” Shra said.

  Mart waved his hand dismissively. “Without wanting to, and most importantly, without knowing it. Clueless ignoramuses and primitives! They don’t come anywhere close to the ones we had to deal with way back when. They’re like kids playing with matches, and they don’t even suspect they could set fire to the house.”

  “Our house!”

  “And that’s why I agreed to come out of my isolation to help you. You need me, which I admit I find flattering. Just don’t go thinking that this changes my basic outlook!”

  “You’re just as much at risk as the rest of us.”

  Mart just shrugged again. “Maybe, maybe not. I think you’re exaggerating again.”

  “The simulations showed a more than sixty percent probability that we would be in danger if we give the Iks a break.”

  “Ah, even if the moon drifts slowly away, we still have a few ten thousand years to go.”

  “But if it crashes into the Earth, or gets torn apart and the debris falls on the Earth—”

  “The probability of that’s significantly lower!”

  “But it’s not zero!”

  “And that’s why I’m here now, dear Shra. You might think I’m an arrogant asshole, but I’m not an idiot! It would be a shame if we were the only species to have survived millions of years, only to be inadvertently annihilated by two underdeveloped species, even if the likelihood is low. But, as you say, it’s not zero!”

  “I thank you for your help. On behalf of the others, too.”

  “Yes, yes. Never mind!” Mart waved a hand. “I’m the only one who still has the means to project a field energy ship. The rest of you have withdrawn so far from the physical sphere that you wouldn’t even be in the position to defend yourselves by throwing a stone.”

  “We’re grateful to you, Mart. And it makes the others more willing to... put up with your extravagance.”

  “Extravagance? You mean my insistence on having a connection to the physical world?” Mart laughed. “How else could I conduct my research? You only exist as qubits and hyperfields in a subspace matrix, and have already lost all contact with the physical universe. The only thing that keeps you tied to reality is that you rely on the string generator deep underground to keep the matrix stable. However, with your so-called ascent you’ve deprived yourself of the opportunity to get in touch with the universe. You wanted to be gods in your self-created, illusory worlds, but you are gods in dream worlds only. Your power is just imagined, not real. That makes you vulnerable, and that’s why you need me!”

  “What are we going to do now?” Shra wanted to return to the problem at hand. She knew that a discussion with Mart would ultimately lead to nothing. He’d always been opposed to transferring the consciousnesses of the last living people into a subspace matrix, where they could create their own worlds independent of—but also without the ability to have any influence on—the rest of the universe. And, ‘live’ forever.

  Shra knew that Mart didn’t
see this as life, but as an escape from reality. He persisted in his belief that humanity had not yet fulfilled its purpose. Mart was convinced that it had to be possible to penetrate other universes to further develop there, not in the sterile artificiality of virtual worlds. He thought virtual ‘life’ was appallingly misguided and a betrayal of evolution.

  So far, Shra had not undergone full immersion in the subspace matrix, and was still able to use an avatar projection to communicate with the real world. This was how she had been able to keep in touch with Mart, who still had a physical body, even if it had to be cloned at regular intervals. He also spent most of the time downloading in a quantum computer several kilometers underground. Still, he could always transfer his consciousness to the newest clone body when he needed to interact with the real world. Like now!

  Her hybrid role made Shra just as much of an outsider as Mart in the community of the last 100,000 inhabitants of the Earth, if anyone could still be described as ‘inhabitants.’ Even so, they had been friends for many hundreds of thousands of years, and Shra was not ready to give up on him so easily.

  “There’s no rush,” replied Mart. “The temporal insulation field gives us sufficient time to find a solution for the kids out there.”

  “A solution that will allow them to survive, I hope!”

  “Still the incorrigible humanitarian, I see. Or should I say, alienitarian? What difference does it make if they die here today or after a few millennia? You’re only prolonging their inevitable suffering.”

  “And you are still the incorrigible defeatist—an arrogant one, at that! You’re the one who takes himself for a god! What gives you the right to decide the fate of these two species so nonchalantly?”

  “Because I have the power to do so? Because you see, Shra, unlike your friends, I have real power! Almost godlike, physical power, here, in reality. Not just illusory power, because I can create a virtual environment in which I feel like a god.”

  “You’re an asshole, Mart!”

  “And I love you too, Shra. So, back to business. What should we do with the spiders and the birds? And, yes, I’ll let them live, I promise!” He grinned at Shra. “Provided they behave from now on!”

  Mart told his mentalon to dissolve the temporal insulation field. The warring parties had certainly not noticed that, for a few minutes, time had stood still. For the Iks and the Mendraki, everything had proceeded according to the usual temporal flow. Their science and technology were still far from understanding or even controlling the flow of time.

  Children! Mart thought. Ignorant but dangerous children!

  His mentalon confirmed that the flow of time around the field energy ship had realigned itself with the cosmic standard. Mart kept the energy choke-field in effect, which prevented any energy release exceeding a few kilowatt-hours. For the time being there would be no explosions, nor maser shots, nor railgun volleys.

  “We’d better get in contact with the kids,” he said to Shra. She was watching him closely, as if she didn’t trust him completely. Although they were friends, this was the case, just as Mart suspected.

  He contacted his mentalon again, through the use of his mind only, and mentally formulated a message that was dispatched immediately. The field energy ship was able to translate Mart’s message for the two species without any difficulty since it had, of course, long since deciphered both species’ languages. Admittedly, it had taken a little longer for the Mendraki—four milliseconds longer, to be exact—but here, too, the meaning of the dance steps had been quickly deciphered. Much to Mart’s chagrin, the ship could not translate feelings into pheromones just by using a radio system. But Mart was sure that he would still be understood.

  The Iks would receive the message as a conventional radio message over the frequencies that the ship knew that the Iks preferred to use.

  The Mendraki would see a natural-looking material projection appear on the bridges of their ships—the perfect copy of a Mendrak that would execute just the right dance steps.

  “You are in a forbidden zone. All combat operations are to cease immediately.”

  The Arrangement

  The emergency lights went on, and some consoles and displays came back to life—some, but not all, as Tolkut was to discover.

  What was that? What is this strange... sphere? he asked.

  Unfortunately, I have no answer, Shipmaster, answered the Techweaver. It is still there, and it remains between our ships in space. And the more significant power consumers aren’t working, although the fusion reactors still have an active plasma core. I can’t explain it. It contradicts all natural laws!

  Tolkut suspected they were dealing with someone who was better versed in the laws of nature than the Mendraki, someone far, far superior to them. Was this ball—this sphere—rushing to help the Iks? Or was it actually on Kasfok’s side? He assumed they’d find out soon, and felt there were no actions they could take against this sphere if it should be hostile toward them.

  The next message came. Our torpedoes simply hit their targets without exploding, and we can’t activate the energy weapons or the railguns. Tolkut couldn’t believe this, either! They’d been utterly disarmed from one micropulse to the next. It had been almost playfully easy.

  “Oh, look!” Kimikizu suddenly exclaimed. “The nano rope! It’s just dissolving!”

  “The aliens in the giant blue sphere must be enemies of the Iks,” Norok grumbled bitterly. “They’re preventing our escape and abandoning us to be destroyed.”

  I’m not so sure about that, Tolkut interjected. If so, they would not have paralyzed our weapons systems. And Kasfok’s ships are no longer firing either. I think— he interrupted himself.

  The air started to billow in the middle of the bridge, and a Mendrak was suddenly standing there. Either because or in spite of his perfect body, there was something artificial about him. Tolkut realized he lacked personality, lacked the little scrapes inevitably left on the body from the arena battles that regularly served as entertainment on all ships, the slightly different lengths of the legs, the somewhat variable distances of the eyes from one another, the imperfections in the body armor, and the traces of wear on the mandibles—none of these could be seen in the Mendrak that had appeared out of thin air like a ghost.

  Then the ghost placed his drum legs on the main thread and started beating out a message.

  You are in a forbidden zone. All combat operations are to cease immediately.

  He emphasized his demand with carefully measured dance steps that expressed a threat, and with complete superiority and self-assurance. But here, too, everything seemed too precise! There was no imperceptible hesitation, no sloppy execution, no... individuality! There were also absolutely no pheromones emanating from him, which was impossible. To Tolkut, the Mendrak looked like a perfect robot with a Mendrak body.

  An overzealous officer pulled his gun before Tolkut could prevent him and tried to fire a shot at the unknown Mendrak—but the weapon just misfired. The alien completely ignored him.

  I have deactivated weapons systems on both sides. Only the energy-consuming systems that are necessary for sustaining life and communications are still working. The nano rope has been destroyed because we cannot tolerate its use. He performed the steps of absolute rule, which on the one hand annoyed Tolkut, but on the other hand was justified, given their helplessness. Talk to each other! Reach an agreement! Or we will find a resolution to your conflict! I’ll give you some of your... pulses... some time!

  The Mendrak disappeared as suddenly as it had appeared. The place on the bridge where he had just been standing looked like he’d never been there.

  Give me a connection with Kasfok, Tolkut ordered the radio drummer.

  Nano rope? What about this nano rope? blustered the Netmaster.

  It must be the rope that the Iks—, his Techweaver started to drum, but Kasfok interrupted him rudely.

  Of course that’s the rope, you gratz leech! Do you think I’m an idiot? But what does this
have to do with us? Let the aliens stick to the Iks if they have a problem with the rope.

  Perhaps they don’t want there to be a war—any war—in this system, one of the officers dared to interject. Maybe they consider it their system!

  Before Kasfok could give any further thought to the matter, he heard from his radio drummer.

  Shipmaster Tolkut would like to speak to the Netmaster.

  What does the traitor want from me? If it hadn’t been for his rebellion, we wouldn’t have wound up in this damned situation! Kasfok tried to collect himself. Now there was another, much more powerful enemy, and he very well might still need Tolkut. Fine then, put him on the line!

  Kasfok could hardly conceal his hatred as Tolkut’s figure appeared on the main display, and it took all his willpower to keep his legs from twitching involuntarily and showing his enemy all too clearly what he was feeling. Although Tolkut certainly knows the score, he thought. But at that moment, showing feelings would have looked like weakness.

  What do you want, Tolkut? Kasfok deliberately dispensed with the honorary title.

  Tolkut didn’t bother with formalities either. Given the unforeseen situation, we should consider how we can reach an agreement.

  An agreement? With you? Kasfok now gave free rein to his contempt. Well, Tolkut, you can submit to me, and I’ll let you live. You will, however, lose your status!

  You haven’t understood a thing, Kasfok! We’re facing a power that doesn’t give a damn about our conflict. Have you still not grasped that we can’t fire any of our weapons as long as the blue sphere is present?

  This is my system and my helium-3, Tolkut, and I am not letting you or the Iks, let alone some aliens coming from the middle of nowhere, take away what belongs to me. And what we need to survive!

  You’re not just a fool, Kasfok, you must be insane! Tolkut danced the steps of pity and disbelief. This system does not belong to you or me or the Iks. Those who command the blue sphere claim this system for themselves. Have you even once taken a look around? Do you see what happened out there? The aliens are so superior to us that instead of using our weapons, we may as well throw stones at them. They would only laugh at them! Let’s face it, Kasfok! We can only hope that they will treat us mercifully—and that will only happen if we stop fighting each other!