by Ralph Prince
“What’s that?” asked Porter.
“In the event the computer is compromised or is deemed a threat to the ship or crew,” Captain Garris explained, “there’s a protocol that will disable it; in this case, a gamma burst that will destroy its bio-processor.”
“That would kill him. Why would the Space Force install such a thing?” Porter demanded, mortified that such a protocol was in place to use against his greatest achievement without his knowledge or consent.
“Because I required it as a precursor to allowing that thing on board my ship,” the commander explained succinctly. “Maybe you’re forgetting what happened with some of the early experiments into true A.I.s and the reason they were outlawed. I’m starting to see that pattern developing in Nav-Tac. For now, we still need it to help run the ship and get us home, so it’ll only be used as a last resort. It is not to know of the protocol under any circumstances. Understood?”
Both crewmembers nodded in acknowledgement.
“One other thing,” he added, rounding the table to the exit. “Remember, it can control all of the ship’s functions, including life support. Whatever you do, don’t antagonize it. I don’t want it getting upset.”
Porter finished his coffee as the closing hatch stifled the commander’s receding footsteps, leaving him and Lieutenant Monet alone. For several moments, they sat staring at each other. Neither knew how to express the thoughts their imaginations had conjured.
“It’s unbelievable,” Porter finally said, setting the cup aside and walking to the food synthesizer control panel. He placed an order for bacon and eggs. “Nav-Tac may be the first true artificial life form; and I essentially created him.”
“Good work, Dr. Frankenstein,” said Jackie, lacking the younger lieutenant’s enthusiasm. “It could kill us all on a whim and we’re powerless to stop it. I never did like that thing; it looks like a head in a jar.” She shuddered involuntarily.
“I’m sure Nav-Tac wouldn’t do anything to harm us.” Porter said, returning to his seat with his breakfast. “And who’s Dr. Frankenstein?”
“The mad scientist who tried to create life by reanimating dead tissue.” Jackie explained, cocking one eyebrow. “You’ve never heard of Frankenstein?”
“Sounds like he must have been working in the biological research and defense department,” Porter replied. He sat the tray down and paused for several seconds, his attention focused somewhere in the distance.
“Is something wrong?” Jackie asked, perceiving the distant gaze. “You seem distracted.”
“No,” he faltered. “Well, yes. I guess. I don’t know.”
“Want to talk about it,” Jackie offered. “I’ve been told I’m a good listener.”
“When I got my PAN working, I found out I had received a message from my girlfriend,” he explained.
“And you miss her?” Jackie asked.
“It’s not that,” he continued. “She sent me a picture.” Laying his left arm across the table, he touched the screen of his wrist computer, producing a three-dimensional hologram to appear above it.
“Wow!” Jackie stated, staring wide-eyed at the image. “She’s ... ample. How much did those cost her?”
“Nothing,” Porter responded sheepishly. “I bought them for her. It was kind of an anniversary, slash, going to miss you present.”
“Anniversary? How romantic,” she said, sarcasm dripping from her words. She continued in an exaggerated ditzy voice, “and to think I wasted my medical training on treating sick people and stuff. Why would anyone that pretty want to do something like that to herself? It’s a wonder she can walk without falling over.”
“Never mind,” he said, with an exasperated sigh. “It’s stupid.”
“No, I’m sorry,” Jackie apologized. “That was insensitive of me. Seriously, what anniversary?”
“Three weeks,” Porter admitted gawkily.
“A milestone,” Jackie responded, trying to sound sincere. “Who’s the good-looking guy with her?”
“The doctor who did the genetic graft,” he said, rolling his eyes. “Otherwise known as ‘her new boyfriend’. She dumped me by Vidmail. That’s what the message was.”
“I’m sorry,” Jackie said with true sincerity.
“It’s alright,” he said. “She said she couldn’t handle the whole long-distance relationship thing. I’m just miffed that I spent all that money on her, and her procedure was the day after we left Earth. I never got to see them.”
“Okay,” Jackie said incredulously. “After that comment, I’m not feeling sorry for you anymore. By the way, I lied. I’m not really a good listener.”
“I don’t blame you,” Porter said. “It’s not like this is the first time this has happened to me. Hell, three weeks is a long-term relationship for me. I’m sure I’ll meet someone new when we get back to Earth.”
“Maybe,” Jackie suggested, “you’re just looking for the wrong kind of women. The vacuous socialites you hang out with are probably only interested in you for your good looks and money. You should get out and try to find a woman who lives in the real world, and isn’t quite so superficial and … artificial.”
“You know, a lot of people get genetic enhancements,” he retorted defensively. “There’s nothing wrong with wanting to improve yourself.”
“First of all,” she said, “grafting is so expensive only the stupidly wealthy can afford it. Second, I don’t see why it’s so important to change the person you were born to be. Why can’t people be happy with the way they are? Third, it’s a relatively new procedure, which was illegal until about three years ago, and we really don’t know if there are long-term ramifications of DNA manipulation.”
“So,” Porter said, “there isn’t anything you would want to change about yourself if money weren’t an obstacle, and it were perfectly safe?”
Jackie pondered her earlier introspection before responding. “No,” she said. “I’m satisfied with who I am. Anyone who would go to those lengths to change their appearance isn’t secure in their own identity, and is essentially lying to themselves and those around them by pretending to be someone they’re not. A true loving relationship needs to be based on compatibility between people who are honest to themselves and those they care about. Physical attraction is nothing more than lust, and it doesn’t endure the test of time. Maybe that’s why you’ve never had a lasting relationship. You need to find a partner who’s comfortable in their own body.”
“You may be right,” he admitted, turning his attention to his now cold breakfast. “But I don’t know where to meet that kind of women, or what to say to them.”
“Believe it or not,” Jackie said, “they’re pretty much everywhere. The important thing is to be true to yourself. Don’t buy them expensive gifts to impress them with your money. If you like a person, just be honest with them, and tell them how you feel. It would be so refreshing if someone just walked up to me and said ‘You’re pretty and I like you. I would like to have sex with you.’”
“And that would work?” Porter asked skeptically.
Jackie pondered for a moment then replied, “Sure, if I knew the person and was interested in them. It shows confidence and honesty. I find that more attractive than a pretty face.”
“I’ll have to give it a try,” Porter said, poking at the breakfast with his fork.
“How about you?” Jackie asked, studying the young lieutenant’s features. “You’re an attractive man. Have you been grafted?”
“No,” Porter replied without hesitation, his attention still focused on his plate. “I’m all natural.”
“Is there something wrong with your breakfast?” she asked, noticing he was prodding his food but not eating. “I generally try to avoid eggs and chicken products. They never seem to get the taste right.”
“That’s not it,” Porter replied. “The portions just seem kind of small.”
“Maybe you could spend ludicrous amounts of money to get it enlarged,” Jackie suggested, prompting a
smile from the junior lieutenant. “Seriously, you’re probably just a little overweight. The auto-cook monitors your biochip implant, and regulates your diet to ensure you’re eating properly. Even though all the food is synthesized, eating too much still packs on the pounds. A lot of people gain weight on their first extended space mission. It’s due to the reduction in physical activity. Don and I have a workout area in one of the cargo bays; I could put together an exercise regime for you.”
“No thanks,” he scoffed. “I’ve got enough problems already.”
“You mean like nearly getting sucked into a black hole, almost getting written up for insubordination, your computer going HAL9000 on us, and your girlfriend dumping you?” Jackie asked.
“Yeah,” Porter replied. “What else could possibly go wrong?”
“Jackie and Lieutenant Porter,” the commander’s voice issued over the intercom speaker, “report to the bridge immediately.”
“You could miss breakfast altogether,” Jackie said, as she stood.
“I had to ask,” he muttered, feeling the emptiness in the pit of his stomach. Pushing the tray aside, he followed the med-tech from the galley, toward the bridge.
“I realize that, Nav-Tac,” the captain was saying as the two crew members arrived, “but, unless I’m mistaken, I am still the captain of this ship. As such, I make all the command decisions.”
“You are correct, captain,” responded the agent. “I was in error to act without consulting you first; however, I saw no other available course of action. We cannot determine our location without the monitors and sensors operating at full efficiency, and you yourself said the best way to repair them was to make a landing. Am I not correct?”
“That’s beside the point,” the commander argued.
“What seems to be the problem, Don?” Jackie asked, stepping up behind him.
“This damned computer!” he shouted, turning abruptly toward her. Her cautionary expression reminded him of their earlier discussion and he lowered his voice. “Nav-Tac decided to put us in orbit around one of the planets without checking with me first.”
“After careful analysis of the data I was able to collect on the stellar ecosphere,” Nav-Tac said in its defense, “I concluded that the planetary body we are now orbiting would have the approximate temperature and gravitational pull of Earth. It was therefore the most logical place to land and make repairs.”
“And in your calculations,” the captain questioned calmly, “did you consider that we are in unknown space, and might be invading the airspace of a potentially hostile species?”
“No,” Nav-Tac replied after a slight hesitation. “That thought had not occurred to me. My primary interest was in finding a landing sight so the vessel could be repaired. My actions could have had dire consequences, and you were correct in reprimanding me. I assure you this error will never be repeated.”
“So,” Porter said, trying to ease the tension, “what do we do now?”
“Well,” responded the captain after a contemplative pause, “we haven’t been contacted or attacked yet, so I guess we can assume the planet isn’t inhabited by an advanced intelligence. Since our power reserve isn’t fully restored yet, we might as well continue orbiting for a while. If nothing happens, we’ll land at the first opportunity.”
“What do you suggest we do in the mean time?” Porter asked. “The replacement circuit modules I sent to the printer won’t be finished for a couple more hours.”
“I have noted the surveillance system for the galley seems to have malfunctioned,” Nav-Tac offered. “Perhaps you could implement repairs.”
“Why don’t you, Jackie, and Nav-Tac map the surface and find a good landing sight,” the captain suggested, ignoring the agent as he started toward the hallway. “As for me, I’m going to my cabin for a while.”
“How are we supposed to do that?” Jackie called after him as he disappeared from view. “The monitors and sensors are out, remember?”
“You said we had the only communication transmitter in the galaxy,” the captain called back to them, as he continued down the hall. “Try bouncing a few radio waves off the surface and seeing what comes back. They used to use a similar method in the late twentieth century. They called it Synthetic Aperture Radar. It was crude, but effective enough for our purpose.”
Taking a seat at the tactical console, Porter stared in befuddlement at Nav-Tac’s display screen, as detailed diagrams outlining the procedure were displayed. “Synthetic Aperture Radar?” he mumbled.
“It’s an ancient form of radar imaging,” Nav-Tac offered. “The principle is similar to the ship’s sensors, except successive pulses of low powered radio waves are broadcast instead of the wide spectrum sensor beams we normally use. By measuring the intensity and variations of the returning waves, I should be able to produce an accurate graphic representation of the planet’s surface. It’s like the echolocation process employed by some Chiroptera and Odontoceti. It should provide a highly detailed topographical map, more than adequate for our needs.”
“I get it,” Porter said after a moment’s contemplation. “It’s so simple.”
“Yeah, simple,” said Jackie, with less conviction. “Just tell me what I need to do.”
CHAPTER 7: Strange New World
The Nova came gently to rest on the sun-parched surface of the uncharted world, stirring up a thick veil of gray dust. As the engines died down, the dust settled about the vessel as though it had never been disturbed.
Meanwhile, on the bridge, the crew busily went about their assigned duties preparing for an indefinite stay.
“Jackie,” Captain Garris ordered, “go to the air lock and get an atmosphere sample for analysis. I don’t want any mistake about that, and with the external sensors in the state they’re in, I’m not sure I trust them. Nav-Tac, give me a report on our landing, and call up the data we have on the planet. Porter,” he paused, “do whatever it is you’re supposed to be doing.”
“Near perfect landing, captain,” Nav-Tac commended. “Given the current status of the sensors and monitors, I doubt I could have done better.”
“Sir,” Porter stammered as Jackie left the bridge on her assigned errand, “I’m not entirely sure what I’m supposed to be doing. Normally, I would verify Nav-Tac’s sensor scans, but….”
“Give me the information we have on the planet so far,” said the captain, moving from his station to the monitor and communications center.
“Rotation time is twenty-five hours, six minutes,” Porter reported as Nav-Tac displayed the information on his screen. “Axis tilt indicates we have landed in the late winter seasonal zone. Volume, density, mass, and gravity all vary only slightly from Earth’s. The temperature outside is thirty-nine degrees Celsius; not your typical winter weather. Air pressure is one hundred kilopascals, just slightly lower than Earth standard. Roughly fifty-five percent of the surface is covered with liquid water, and there are ice caps at the poles. There are severe storms sweeping across about seventy percent of the planetary surface at the moment; we are currently in one of the few calm areas. Interestingly, it has one orbiting satellite, similar in size and orbital distance to the earth’s moon.”
“It certainly isn’t any planet I’m familiar with,” the commander said, studying the blurred images on the monitor screens. “In fact, I can’t think of one that so greatly resembles Earth. Nav-Tac, display the map of the area on the front monitor screen please. A ten-kilometer radius should be sufficient.”
“Roger,” responded Nav-Tac as the three-dimensional graphic display appeared on the screen; a flashing representation of the Nova was superimposed upon the center to indicate its location.
To the geographic north of the ship, gentle hillocks rose and fell, broken only by a jagged rise encircling a shallow cavity. Northeast of the rise was a band of regularly spaced protrusions, reaching skyward over the surrounding land.
“That circular crater to the north appears to be a dormant volcano or meteor impact,” t
he captain stated, examining the map. “Lieutenant, what do you make of the section toward the top?”
Porter squinted, studying the display. “Some kind of rock formation?” he offered.
“Or a city,” suggested the captain. “The center area appears almost flat, but notice the regularity in the spacing of the outlying areas. They look almost like city blocks. It’s too uniform to be a natural formation. That’s the reason I chose this as a landing site.”
“Are you suggesting this planet may be inhabited?” asked the shocked lieutenant.
“It’s a possibility,” the commander replied. “The planetary conditions here are certainly conducive to life. It may be a ruined city, or a base left here by a non-terrestrial race. I think it bears closer examination; we should check it out.”
“Check what out?” Jackie asked, re-entering the bridge, carrying a small metallic canister. “Have you found something of interest?”
“A possible city,” Porter replied, taking the container from her and fitting it into one of the two depressions in the top of a piece of equipment next to the tactical station. He entered a sequence of commands into the chemical analyzer’s touch pad, causing frenzied activity on its display accompanied by a low hum. “That’s what the captain thinks. Personally, I doubt we’ll find any intelligent life here.”
“What makes you say that, lieutenant?” she asked.
“The odds of finding an inhabited planet, without prior communication, are astronomical,” he stated. “In our entire known galaxy, there are about three-dozen sentient species and less than a hundred worlds with complex life at all. Just picking a planet at random and expecting to find an advanced civilization is beyond infinitesimal, it’s ludicrous.”
“Nitrogen content, seventy-seven point six percent,” reported Nav-Tac, acquiring the data from the analyzer. “Oxygen content, twenty-one point two percent. The rest are just trace elements of carbon dioxide, argon, and other gases. I also detect traces of suspended water vapor, numerous simple microorganisms, and pollen of various plant types. There are no indications of radiation, toxins or microbes harmful to humans. The atmospheric composition is remarkably earth-like.”