Vostok

by Steve Alten

  40

  “You don’t have to have a great faith or anything. The whole thing is so

  simple—as though it’s too marvelous to be true. I don’t and never did imagine

  God as one thing. But now I can see God as a power source, or as an energy.”

  —John Lennon

  At my request, our transport was diverted to Charon’s City of the Sciences, the place where I had been assigned to live and train two years after my birth.

  Every child born on Charon since the time of the Great Uprising was required to be submitted for G.A.T.—Genetic Aptitude Testing—within two solar years of conception. DNA and brain chemicals determined where each offspring would be raised and educated. Only the children of the Council were exempted, a ruling which virtually assured our militaristic rulers to be among the least educated populace inhabiting the planet.

  We landed in the Biological District, where the regent’s top exobiologist, Dr. Kabir Parker, had been summoned to his lab for our meeting. I had studied under Kabir until I’d had a near-death experience during my pre-pubescent years. Upon recovering from the drowning incident, my psyche had changed, my logical mind evolving into one that was more intuitive. When my studies faltered, my G.A.T. was retested, the results sending my education into a free fall.

  There is no place in an autocratic society for a free thinker, especially one who claims he can communicate with the dead.

  Zaphenath Paneah and I listened while Kabir lectured us on how life first evolved on Charon. “It began over 400 million solar orbits ago with chemiosmosis, a process in which the chemical adenosine triphosphate was broken down and re-formed to release energy. Biological evidence indicates the first living organisms on Charon were not self-replicating molecules, but a byproduct of a chemical combination that contained the instructions for processing energy and replicating. Incredibly, the enzymes required for this specific metabolism were not found on our planet; they were delivered by meteorites. Ribose, adenine, and cytosine were the key ingredients lined inside these space rocks, which most likely metabolized into bacteria after coalescing in hot, acidic pools of liquid that contained phosphorus chemicals.”

  “Kabir, in order to save our people, we need to seed the ingredients of Charon’s life matrix on another world. Just for argument’s sake, let’s say you could package this biological soup aboard a conventional rocket and crashland it. Which planet or moon in our solar system represents the best candidate for life to take hold and develop as it has on Charon?”

  “At present? The answer is none.”

  “I realize that. But what about in the future or distant future?”

  Communicating with his control console via thought wave, the exobiologist powered on a holographic map of our star system revealing our sun, orbited by four inner worlds and four outer, the divide separated by an asteroid belt.

  “The two innermost planets, Nekudim and Akudim, are far too close to the sun for life to ever evolve. The outlying gas giants beyond Charon aren’t suitable either. That leaves Berudim.”

  The hologram zoomed in on the third planet from the sun. Charon’s neighbor was a hostile world, its surface obscured behind a dense layer of gray atmospheric clouds. “If we’re speaking strictly in terms of a planetary lifetime, then Berudim would be my choice. Although its atmosphere is presently toxic to life as we know it, our probes indicate that the cloud cover obscuring the planet’s surface contains massive layers of moisture and that it is in fact raining on Berudim. Water, as you know, is a necessary ingredient for life on Charon. Berudim’s atmosphere is in flux, and probability models suggest a breathable air in approximately ten to fifteen million years. What I also like about Berudim is that it’s twice the size of Charon, with a much larger magnetosphere to protect it from the solar wind.”

  Zaphenath Paneah turned to me. “The magnetosphere is an issue the Council has hidden from the masses since the revolution. It has been steadily eroding for centuries. Another fifty to seventy years and we’ll have no atmosphere. No atmosphere means no air and no greenhouse effect to maintain temperature stability. With or without the Miketz, Charon is destined to become a cold, desolate world.”

  Kabir never liked being interrupted while he was in mid-gust. “Listen to me, Avi Socha. We can engage in hypotheticals between now and doomsday, but there’s a difference between seeding the ingredients of life on Berudim and expecting it to one day become an intelligent race of beings. Evolution has its own catalysts—asteroid strikes, ice ages, runaway genetic mutations. Duplicating an abiotic process to produce RNA or RNA precursors that result in a species suitable to communicate with is a one in a million shot.”

  “One in a million is better than no chance at all,” Zaphenath Paneah said. “Kabir, how many probes are available to launch to Berudim?”

  Kabir used his thought waves to review the institute’s inventory of space drones. “Seventy-two vessels still remain under the institute’s control. As fate would have it, the journey can be completed in six days, because the two planets are rapidly approaching their maximum perihelic opposition, the closest they’ve been since life first took hold on Charon. Before you go congratulating yourself, Avi Socha, you should know that this isn’t just a coincidence. Berudim is actually the cause of the Miketz. The third planet’s gravitational pull on Charon is what is increasing the pressure in the calderas. Sometime before the maximum perihelic orbit is achieved, Charon’s magma pockets will erupt, unless we take the necessary course of action.”

  Kabir’s tone caused the back of my skull to tingle. “What does that mean? Zaphenath, what is he referring to?”

  The rebel leader was not happy with his scientist’s lack of discretion. “It’s a course of action that has been proposed. When the Council discovered that Berudim’s gravitational pull was causing the calderic pressure increases, they instructed the Science Institute to develop a means of destroying it. Our scientists succeeded where theirs failed.”

  Zaphenath Paneah focused his thought waves on the hologram of Berudim until three drones were positioned around the planet. “The device is called a scalar weapon. Unlike conventional electromagnetic waves that propagate outward in ripples through our physical dimension, scalar waves travel through space longitudinally in the higher dimensions. When fired simultaneously from drones orbiting Berudim, the scalar waves shall cause every molecule on the planet to broil at a temperature hotter than the sun, vaporizing everything into plasma. Berudim’s atmosphere will expand until it explodes, the entire event lasting less than a second.”

  He nodded, causing three electric-blue beams to ignite on the holographic simulation, yielding a massive white explosion that expelled rings of plasma across the vastness of space.

  By the time my eyes adjusted, the third planet from the sun was gone.

  41

  “The distinction between past, present, and future is only a stubbornly persistent illusion.”

  —Albert Einstein

  Whether to destroy an uninhabited planet in order to save your own might seem like an easy decision for the rebel leaders representing the twelve tribes, but there were complex variables in play. If Berudim was destroyed and Charon spared, the Council would return to enslave the people. As for using the scalar weapon on the Council’s orbiting ships, if fired from Charon the anti-gravity burst could potentially set off the calderas.

  Then there was Charon’s decaying magnetosphere. Destroying Berudim only represented a temporary solution, for at some point during the next decade the atmosphere would collapse. At least my plan offered us a chance to begin over in a new world, without being dominated by an oppressive regime.

  But some didn’t want to crawl out from the shadow of oppression. They had been servants for so long that the thought of being free actually frightened them. Even if transdimensional travel could be achieved in the coming weeks, there were too many unknown variables for tribal leaders to even consider a mass exodus.

  How long would our people hav
e to venture across the cosmic desert before a suitable planet could be found?

  What if this new world was ruled by a hostile force far worse than the Council?

  Under the Council’s rule the tribes had been housed and fed, trained and employed. Yes, there were inequities derived from power and pain inflicted upon our people, but sometimes the safer option is the devil you know.

  While voting arrangements were being organized among the eastern tribes’ outlying communities, Kabir and his biologists were hard at work preparing containers of “primordial soup.” At the same time, rebel forces raided the Space Institute, with teams of engineers assigned to prepare as many drone rockets as possible for launch. Slightly larger than the interior dimensions of my cell, these two-stage capsules were programmed to pierce Berudim’s atmosphere at an angle and velocity that would ensure they would survive the journey until impact, bursting their chemical payloads on Berudim… Or so we hoped.

  As Kabir explained it, the success of the mission came down to sheer luck, which relied heavily on a numbers game. Unlike Charon, Berudim’s surface was mostly water. Because the atmosphere obscured our view of any landmasses, we needed to launch as many rockets as possible, spreading them out. Each probe carried a twenty-six-percent probability of impacting land. An ocean burst would dilute the biological soup, rendering it useless.

  The good news was that the results of the mission would be known to me immediately. If life evolved on Berudim in the distant future because of our efforts then, theoretically, I should have a new incarnate to communicate with right after the drones’ impact. If we failed, then a void would remain in the universal consciousness.

  Seventy-two drone rockets were readied for the mission, with three larger drones and two back-ups armed with scalar weapons.

  Now it was up to the people. Would they be ruled by faith or fear, hope or uncertainty? I realized that two worlds’ fates hung in the balance, Charon’s and every species that might potentially existed on Berudim.

  Eleven days before the Miketz calderas were predicted to erupt, the twelve tribal leaders cast votes that represented the will of their people. By a count of seven to five, a decision was rendered in favor of destroying Berudim. Though I argued with anyone who would listen, the five drones containing the scalar weapons were launched, beginning a six-day journey to vaporize our approaching neighbor.

  A day later the plagues struck, and suddenly no one wanted to stay on Charon.

  Scientists theorized that the unpredicted events were caused by a bad combination of seismic activity and the effects of Berudim’s gravitational forces on Charon’s iron and sulfur core, causing it to slow its rotation.

  The tribes didn’t care what was causing the upheaval—only that it was happening. First the lakes and streams that provided our drinking water became tainted with red clay. This sent the amphibious wildlife—frogs and other creatures—evacuating the water to invade our homes. Our livestock drank the water and quickly fell sick. Fleas and lice, seeking new hosts, targeted our people, inflicting their skin with boils and rashes.

  On the second day a small caldera erupted in the eastern province. Darkness covered our planet as the ash cloud spread across the atmosphere, the poor air quality causing severe breathing problems among our youngest children as well as the elderly.

  By the morning of the third day a new vote was taken among the tribes. It was decided that my option would take precedence over the scalar weapons, granting me one day after the drones’ impact to make contact with a being from our future. If I failed to receive instructions regarding a zero-point energy system, then Berudim would be destroyed.

  Midday arrived with a worsening darkness, and seventy-two rockets launched from antiquated launch silos. Each drone carried a sphere-shaped titanium probe filled with containers of chemicals that represented the primordial building blocks of Charonian life.

  Two rockets exploded in the clogged atmosphere. A third struck a Council ship orbiting Charon and was destroyed.

  Two more vessels veered off course.

  Six days later the remaining sixty-seven rockets jettisoned their payloads into the Berudim atmosphere and abruptly disappeared off our sensory screens.

  Zaphenath Paneah escorted me across the paved crater floor to a vessel so immense that it rivaled the Council Assembly Hall. Saucer-shaped with a triangular mast, this particular ship had been assigned to my tribe, assuming I could turn the useless disk of polished metal into an anti-gravitational device able to travel the cosmos beyond the speed of light.

  The rebel leader prompted an entrance that led into the bowels of the ship. “The central chamber is located directly over the propulsion system. It has been prepared as you requested. We’ve cleared the crater of all personnel; it’s just your thoughts and whoever or whatever is listening. Good luck, Avi Socha.”

  I nodded and entered the transport.

  The chamber was circular, located just above the ship’s gravitational well and massive electrogravitic generator rings. Surrounded by darkness, I situated myself before the glow of a crimson candle. Closing my eyes, I began reciting the forty-two-word mantra that dated back to the time of creation, its energy helping me to access the universal consciousness.

  “ANA BEKOACH… GEDULAT YEMINECHA… TATIR ZERURA … ”

  In my mind’s eye my consciousness was moving through the void, passing over a dark sea.

  “KABEL RINAT… AMECHA SAGVENU… TAHARENU NORA … ”

  The sea moved inland, becoming a twisting river that separated a rift valley.

  “NA GIBOR… DORSHEY YICHUDCHA… KEBAVAT SHOMREM … ”

  Snow-covered mountains rose along either bank as the river emptied into a vast lake, its waters dark and forboding.

  “BARCHEM TEHAREM… RACHAMEY ZIDEKATCHA… TAMID GOMLEM … ”

  Looking down, I saw immense water creatures moving just below the surface, their backs sprouting streams of vaporized air.

  “HASIN KADOSH… BEROV TUVECHA… NAHEL ADOTECHA … ”

  Sensing intelligence, my consciousness followed these immense creatures inland to a bay. Lying in the water was a transport ship identical to the saucer in which my physicality remained back on Charon.

  “YAHID GE’EA… LEAMECHA PENNE… ZOCHREY KDUSHATECHA … ”

  I was inside the vessel, entering a dark chamber illuminated by the light coming from a violet candle.

  “SHAVATENU KABEL… USHEMA ZAKATENU… YODE TA’ALUMOT … ”

  As I completed the last verse of the mantra, I saw a figure seated on the floor on the opposite side of the candle. The alien was a biped, clothed in a strange body garment. Its skull was narrow, adorned with brown fur that stopped at its jawline. On each side of its head were two fleshy protusions that appeared to accentuate the being’s hearing holes.

  I wondered if the creature could see, for its eyes were small and partially concealed behind skin flaps. Its flesh was thick, especially around the nose and mouth. Most bizarre—each paw possessed five thick digits.

  Was the being intelligent?

  Endeavoring to find out, I communicated my thoughts. “I am called Avi Socha.”

  I opened my eyes, disoriented from having passed through the center of the whirling electrogravitic rings. For some reason I was back inside the chamber above the generator, the darkness pierced by the light coming from a violet candle.

  Seated on the floor opposite the flickering light was an extraterrestrial, one of the Grays described to me by Colonel Vacendak. Its head was elongated and hairless and perched precariously atop a spindly neck. Its eyes were big and black and had no exterior lids. Nor did it have ears, just holes. Its hands were thin and double-jointed, possessing three long fingers and an opposable fourth digit. The E.T.’s torso was clothed in a white tunic. I had no idea whether it was male or female… or both.

  I jumped as its inner voice communicated to me. “I am called Avi Socha.”

  “I am Zachary Wallace,” I said aloud.

  My spok
en words appeared to startle it. “You cannot communicate telepathically?”

  “No. But I can hear your thoughts.”

  I felt the being’s emotions darken, as if my response had disappointed it.

  “Is there a more intelligent species on Berudim that I might communicate with? Perhaps one more like me?”

  “I don’t know. Where is Berudim?”

  The E.T. mentally projected an image of an alien planet above the candle, its atmosphere consumed in dense gray clouds.

  “Where is Berudim in relation to Charon? Is it in our galaxy?”

  The E.T. grew excited. “You know of Charon?”

  “I’ve been having lucid dreams, out-of-body experiences. I think my consciousness was somehow sharing yours.”

  “Our consciousnesses remain independent while our physical forms harbor the same soul. This is how we can communicate, through the universal mind. Show me your world, Zachary Wallace.”

  I imagined Earth as seen from space.

  “So much water… Show me more.”

  I zoomed in on the United Kingdom, hovering over London. Gave him a quick tour of the city, then Cambridge University where I had taught long ago.

  The image brought back memories of Brandy and William.

  “So much sadness. Were we wrong to seed life on Berudim?”

  “Wait, are you telling me Earth is Berudim? But that image—”

  “—is how Berudim appears to us in my time.”

  “Avi Socha, show me Berudim in relation to Charon!”

  The hologram returned to the gray world, pulling back to reveal a smaller blue world, the fourth planet from the sun.

  Multiple thoughts raced through my consciousness as I processed the information. If Berudim was Earth, then Charon had to be Mars—ancient Mars. If Avi Socha’s species had seeded ancient Earth with life, then I was communicating with a being that had lived 3.8 billion years ago.