“Boys!” Betty suddenly yelled. “You two are always deep in discussion. You need to come over here now. Dinner is ready.”
“Yes, My love. Thank you. We'll be right there!”
“So we're just waiting for events to unfold,” said Sirio, as if their conversation had never been interrupted.
“With all due precautions.”
“And what would those would be?”
“I wish I knew, my friend.”
18
To keep from going nuts, Namiko had decided to keep her mind occupied as much as possible, taking breaks as necessary to satisfy her bodily needs.
Eldgh had been telling the truth: the ship was empty and dormant, having launched itself towards a new star system at an unprecedented speed, which surprised even the First Officer. Alpha Orionis' engines were able to bend space, causing it to contract in front of the spaceship, and stretch out behind it, making it possible to ride the fabric of space-time at superluminal speed.
Obviously, it wasn't the technology which upset the Taahrian, so much as its efficiency. As he had explained to Namiko, after carefully studying the trajectory of the ship, this meant that in the space of one Earth year, they would've traveled two hundred light years: a fact which sharply contrasted with what he had always believed. In fact, based on these results, the report indicated that they only required a few months of travel, perhaps only weeks, to reach the inhabited exoplanets. The problem was that, up until that time, he and every other Taahrian had lived in the belief that it would take thousands of years. Eldgh sensed that the information must've been embedded in his chip. But by whom and for what purpose? Someone had been deceiving them, and who knows for how long.
“I'm sure that once we reach our destination,” said Eldgh, after he had reached a conclusion, “the central computer, or whomever, will reawaken my companions, and at that point, all the systems will be reset and altered to delude us about how much time has actually passed.”
If, in the first few hours after the Commander's death, Eldgh had been concerned about rendering the AI's harmless toward their Terrestrial guest, he had devoted the following three months to keeping the ship's systems and his companions' state of hibernation under control, not so much giving instructions as making sure that they weren't any sudden disruptions. Namiko, with the help of her companion, and above all the C6 units and universal translator, began to learn the Taahrian computer language. At first, despite being an engineer who specialized in computer architecture and data security, she felt like a little girl struggling with the structure of the atomic bomb. She didn't know where to begin: it was as if those years of study and numerous degrees with honors were worthless. The technology in question had nothing to do with the computer language she had studied in college, let alone with the twelve programming languages in which she was proficient.
Algorithms, source codes, executable codes, imperative programming languages, both functional and object-oriented, had nothing to do with the operations of Taahrian quantum computers. Also, despite the translator's assistance, some symbols remained completely incomprehensible. In any case, confirming her warrior's temperment, she didn't give up; and, after a lot of persistence and myriads of tests, she understood that the most logical thing would be to interact with the C6 units as efficiently as possible, limiting herself to interpreting and utilizing simple holographic interfaces, without condemning herself to any deep understanding of their operation.
Eldgh had given her the exclusive use of only three units, for which he was almost certain that he had successfully isolated the circuits, so that the operations of each remained limited to its own memory unit, which couldn't be accessed by external sources.
“Are we a hundred percent certain of that?” Namiko asked.
“Perhaps not.”
“That isn't the answer that I had hoped for.”
“There's really no alternative. If my neural processor was functioning, I could reprogram the entire ship in a few minutes, but that's not happening; and, even if it were functioning, whoever is manipulating us might learn of our presence.”
“I understand. But isn't there still a danger that some sensor could detect the presence of a human being and communicate this to these mysterious puppeteers?”
“Listen, Namiko. I've done everything I can to try keep our operations secret, but I can't make any guarantees.”
“Perhaps,” the Terrestrial suggested, a bit upset by the undisputable truth, “you should learn to lie sometimes.”
The First Officer looked at her, dumbfounded.
“Never mind.”
After a few days, the Taahrian and his companion decided to combine forces to find an external signal that might, in some way, affect the ship or its crew.
“We should find a wavelength that doesn't travel at our spatial level,” Eldgh suggested.
“Yes, you're right,” the Terrestrial agreed. “'Moving at a superluminal speed, the electromagnetic waves for telecommunications systems could never reach us.”
“I know for a fact that there are multiple spatial levels: during our surveys, we utilize them to learn the current status of the nearest star systems.”
“Do you know how to access these spatial levels?”
“Not without the assistance of a Taahrian engineer or the central computer. What's more, I'm not even sure that they can be exploited for communications, even though I think it's likely.”
“C6,” said Namiko, looking into the eyes of one of the androids at her side. “Are there other spatial levels?”
“In relation to what?” the unit asked.
Eldgh interjected in Taahrian, and the android, in the same language, didn't hesitate to respond.
“I'm sorry,” the First Officer explained, “but I don't know how to say it in a terrestrial language. My chip is out of commission and I didn't bring a translator unit with me. I acted on instinct and the C6 understood me.”
“That's fine. What did you learn?”
“Would you please repeat what you told me in our guest's language?”
“Of course!” said the android. “The First Officer asked me if there are additional spatial levels within our space-time continuum.”
That's the word, continuum, the Taahrian thought.
“I told him that subspace, which is an integral part of the space-time continuum, co-exists with normal space. Subspace and normal space can flow together but can't share the same matter. That which is found in subspace can merge into normal space, and that which is found in normal space can merge into subspace, but they cannot actually co-exist simultaneously. Things that exist in subspace, although they exist contemporaneously, are not visible or detectable to those in normal space.”
Namiko's elastic mind didn't have to struggle to understand the continuum concept. So she hastened to ask: “C6, can you detect a possible subspace wave, while insuring that you're not discovered?”
“Of course. I'll act as a receiving antenna, so that it's not possible to transmit a signal of any kind.”
“Let's hope that the puppeteers haven't manipulated its memories too,” said the Taahrian.
“As you said, we don't have a choice,” Namiko replied.
“Proceed, C6,” urged the First Officer after taking an anxiety-laden breath.
The processing of data took only a few moments.
“Well?” Namiko asked impatiently.
“The incoming transmission revealed the existence of two hundred fifty seven different subspace broadband wavelengths.”
“Bingo!” Namiko exclaimed.
Eldgh didn't need a translator to understand the Terrestrial's enthusiasm.
19
The appearance of the Ikalians was like one of those short earthquakes which, although worrisome and anxiety-producing, passes without any permanent damage. Nothing had changed in people's lives: in cities around the world, thousands of aliens continued to swarm around endless great global reconstruction sites; space shuttles sailed the ski
es, and billions of people continued to mourn their dead. The only difference was the word that identified the alien's race: “Taahrian” had been replaced by “Ikalian,” which was rapidly assuming a positive connotation. Moreover, the constant government reassurances, the increase in the speed of reconstruction, and the sharing of incredible technological advances led public opinion towards complete confidence in the newcomers.
If, on the one hand, it was accepted that the arrival of an extraterrestrial civilization could wreak destruction, it was, on the other hand, also accepted that the alien people might possess a philanthropic nature.
Tylor and Betty, to their delight, were transferred to offices near Canberra, thus achieving their long-awaited dream of sleeping in their own cozy home every night.
Sirio, listless and pensive, familiarized himself with the new accounting job, which wasn't really in keeping with his temperament. But his morale got a shot of adrenaline when a thirty-something colleague of Swedish origin, Ingrid Olsson, showed a clear interest in him.
For Sirio, this caused a period of true inner struggle: whether to give in to his attraction to Ingrid or not? His thoughts went back to moments still clear in his mind, as expected: when awake, his feelings of loyalty to Namiko; when he was at work, the excitement he felt whenever Ingrid would kid around with him; and before he went to sleep, self-reproach for the attention he paid to the Swedish woman, and a fear that it would somehow diminish his love for Namiko. All of this was punctuated by dinners with his hosts, who thankfully always managed to get him to think about other things.
“Sirio, I understand your motivation, which I share, and I don't blame you,” Tylor asserted during one of their chats on the sofa, while Betty dedicated herself to washing the dishes and cleaning up the kitchen. Tylor had suggested using the dishwasher, but she told him that staying in there and soaking her hands relaxed her.
“Yeah, I know,” the Italian said, aware that his friend was being sincere.
“So there's no need to repeat the same things all over again. We can calmly move on to the next step.”
“And what would that be?”
“Not missing out on the possibility of a good thing. You can't reverse the course of the Alpha Orionis; and, even if you could, it's probably not what Namiko would want.”
“Obviously I don't want to be alone for the rest of my life, but...”
“But what?”
“It hasn't even been six months... it seems... as if I...”
“Sirio!” Tylor exclaimed, stepping closer to his friend. “Look at me.”
“Yeah..”
“You're not betraying Namiko, not now and not ever. You saved her life; you loved her with all of your being and will continue to love her forever.”
“And it's because I constantly feel this love inside of me that I can't interact normally with other women.”
“Sirio, it's just dinner. You said that she's nice, that she makes you happy, and that you're always laughing together.”
“But you know how these things go...”
“Why don't you tell me.”
“Oh come on. Don't act like you're clueless. If we go to dinner together, then we'll take a walk, maybe get something to drink, perhaps even go home together and…then end up in bed.”
“You mean you've gone to bed with every woman you've taken to dinner?”
Sirio smiled.
“Oh, and try to go to her house; I'd rather you didn't bring her here,” the Australian said jokingly. “Our home isn't your motel!” he concluded authoritatively, as though he was the other's parent.
“You're crazy... but you might be right.”
“So, you're going out?”
“She's really pretty, you know? She's brilliant, has gemstones for eyes, and she's an angel.”
Tylor watched his friend with satisfaction. Encouraging him to date the Swedish woman was the right thing to do. He couldn't watch the other continue to torture himself, locked in his room.
Sirio noticed the mocking expression in Tylor's eyes.
“You're thinking that I have a crush on her, right?”
“Oh come on! I'm just happy that my friend has the chance to relax and enjoy himself for once.”
“Trust me,” Sirio said, his face darkening again, “it's not that I can't accept that she's so far away. If I hadn't made that choice, she would now, in all likelihood, be dead or reduced to living indefinitely as a vegetable; I gave her the opportunity to be a shining star, like she used to be. The problem arose when the Ikalians arrived. If even a tenth of the things they're claiming are true, well... then I've left Namiko in the hands of monsters.”
“We both know that Eldgh isn't a monster.”
“There are no certainties in life; and ever since we discovered that we're not alone in the universe, our concerns have only increased.”
“My friend,” the Australian urged, putting his hand on the other's, “I wouldn't worry too much about what the Ikalians say, because, after thinking about this a lot, I'm convinced of one thing.”
“Which is?”
“The Ikalians are feeding us a load of crap!”
20
Eldgh and Namiko didn’t have to wait long: the impressive computation abilities of the C6 unit were able to process the information from the subspace waves and translate it into spoken language.
“Now it'll tell us what it learned. Here, use this,” the First Officer said, handing his companion a universal translator.
The Japanese woman understood that the android would express itself in the Taahrian language, and that Eldgh had no desire to act as interpreter nor to hear the story a second time.
The C6 unit told them about an artificial planetoid, around which the Alpha Orionis, which had now changed its name, had been orbiting for months, without, however, recording any communication data between intelligent beings and, in all probability, now infected with a virus which was deleting its directories and ravaging the entire server. Then the android said that, before it stopped receiving the signal, it had picked up a stream of data, according to which their ship had been traveling for three thousand years, and had come from a star system called Kjutzu.
“Go back immediately and record that subspace broadcast!” Eldgh ordered peremptorily.
If the Terrestrial was in shock, the Taahrian felt at a loss: his brain was being inundated by stream of neurotransmitters which, no longer under the control of a chip, had begun to fill him with anxiety and concern.
While the C6 unit was engaged in recording the signals coming from who knows where, the First Officer turned to a second android: “can you tell me if, in all these streams of incoming data, there are instructions on how to reprogram the neural processors installed in the Taahrians' brains?”
The android stared at him, wide-eyed, intent on decoding information that was more difficult than usual. Finally, after what seemed an eternity, the unit replied: “Affirmative.”
Namiko heard the First Officer cursing, several times, vacillating between anger and desperation. She didn't comprehend the Taahrian language, but it was easy to understand that he wasn't reciting poetry.
Eldgh moved closer, staring at her with his large eyes. “Do you know what this means?”
“Yes, I think so,” she replied in a whisper.
The Taahrian just stood there for a moment, then turned away, with his back to her.
“It's all been an illusion,” he said emotionally.
“So, everything that you've told us, and everything you think that you've lived through, is all the fruit of someone's imagination.”
“Who could've orchestrated a deception of this scale?”
The Terrestrial stood there silently, unsuccessfully searching for an answer.
“Beyond the implications that you can readily imagine,” said the Taahrian, profoundly upset and thoughtful, “do you realize that at this point, I don't even know who I am? Everything that I thought I knew, from my reawakening as we neared Earth, is nothing
more than a collection of data that was transmitted to the software installed in my head. Where do my people and I come from? Does Taahr really exist? Why did someone go to all the trouble of changing the ship's name to the Betelgeuse if we've never been near the red supergiant? And, since we've never seen it with our own eyes, we might never even have breathed the air of the Taahr system.”
“I don't know who or what could've come up with all of this, or the reasons behind it. But I'm sure of one thing: I will help you to find the truth about all of this!”
“Thank you,” Eldgh replied softly, instinctively becoming, without even realizing it, a mirror of his unconscious mind, which was preoccupied with mysterious and disturbing questions.
“Don't thank me. I'm not just being kind, given that, at this point, my people are as involved as yours, and who knows how many others.”
“I think that these puppeteers have been giving us instructions to be used for conquest, destruction, or who knows what on the next planet,” the Taahrian reasoned out loud. “When my companions awake, they'll be completely unaware of what happened on Earth, which you can be sure will give rise to a new catastrophe. While they're under the illusion that it's the first. Instead, who knows how long this has been going on.”
“A plausible hypothesis, but to learn more, we need to remain hidden, listening and working through this until we discover the whole truth.”
“You're right. And there's another thing that we have to do.”
“What's that?”
“Discover the source of the signal!” Eldgh exclaimed, with a determination fueled by hate.
21
They had to wait for the usual chill of the Australian winter as it arrived a month later than usual: though July had been relatively mild, it was freezing outside by August. Sirio smiled at the thought: it was difficult, if not impossible, for a European to associate those months with snow and ice.
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