Sidespace

by G. S. Jennsen

  “And now we know one thing we didn’t before—not all the life in these universes is human, or even humanoid. Or in any way similar to us, for that matter.”

  Alex scowled at the results of the scans. “Agreed, but this doesn’t get us any closer to understanding what the purpose is for all these separate universes or the portal network.”

  Caleb massaged her shoulders, easing the last of the aches from the adventure of the previous day. All but the ache in her arm. “We could go ask Mesme.”

  “No.” Her head shook firmly to emphasize the point. “Never ask a question until you know the answer, or at least can tell if the other person—or being—is lying. In this case, there’s no reason to think the alien will tell us anything other than riddles. Besides, I don’t want Mesme to learn the extent of our poking around.”

  “Not until we know more, anyway. I concede the point—knowledge is power when it comes to Mesme, and right now we don’t have much.” His hand slid down her arm to her palm. “Come on. Breakfast before decisions.”

  “You get started while I change my bandage.”

  He let go of her hand and headed for the kitchen. She waited until he was fully occupied setting out breakfast, then gingerly removed the medwrap from her wrist.

  A gasp caught in her throat. She’d realized the wound wasn’t healed—she could feel it wasn’t healed—but in reality it was worse. The cut had clotted into a brownish-yellow pus, and the welts covering the skin surrounding it were now engorged and inflamed.

  I did tell you the biocide wasn’t working.

  I know you did, but it’s a simple cut. The medwrap alone should’ve all but healed it by now.

  The cut was delivered by an alien source. It transferred microorganisms into your bloodstream which humans have never seen before, much less developed treatments for. I am working with your eVi to better calibrate your immune system response and combat the infection, but it too has never seen these microbes before.

  Shit. Okay.

  She’d been so absorbed in the internal conversation with Valkyrie—and gaping aghast at her arm—she missed Caleb coming up behind her. He dropped a hand on the table and demanded her attention. “Were you going to tell me?”

  She cringed, unable to lie to him when he looked at her that way. “If it got worse…but Valkyrie’s on the case, supercharging my immune system. I’ll be fine.”

  He lifted her arm up and ran fingertips along the edges of the wound, studying it clinically. “Alex, this is badly infected, and we don’t know by what.” His gaze rose to meet hers. “We need to go home and get this treated.”

  “Don’t be ridiculous.”

  “I won’t have you dying from some alien microbe because you were too bullheaded stubborn to get help.”

  “Caleb, if the medwrap and the biocide didn’t heal it, that means our doctors don’t have any information on whatever’s causing the inflammation, so returning home won’t do any good. And I’m not going to die. I’ll fight it off. It just may take a few days.”

  “Our doctors can absolutely treat it. We discover new microbial strains every time we investigate a new planet.”

  “True, but those still originate in our universe. This is alien in a way none of those are.”

  I’m not certain this argument helps your case.

  Noted.

  He scrutinized her suspiciously. “How do you feel?”

  “Fine.” And she did, mostly. Her arm hurt like hell, but…truthfully, she mostly felt like crap.

  His eyes squeezed shut. “Good god, woman, you are the most obstinate person I have ever met. If it hasn’t improved markedly by tomorrow morning, we’re going home. No argument.”

  She made a face at him. “Eh…all right.” Time to change the subject. “These planetary scans are one step above worthless. It’s not your fault, Valkyrie—there’s simply nothing here. Whatever is happening in and among the flora, we can’t see it. Do you have any ideas for how to get useful information out of this place? “

  ‘Not at present. In order to learn more we’d need to study living organic material. We could attempt to modify a probe to conduct a minimal analysis from the surface, but given the hostility of the planet’s inhabitant, at this point I doubt it would allow the probe to do so.’

  “Maybe if we leave and give it a few days, it’ll calm down and we can try again?”

  Caleb shrugged in nominal agreement, as he was spending most of his energy staring at her arm with a worrying glower. “We picked up signs of activity on two other planets in the system, so let’s go check them out—more cautiously this time.”

  ‘Setting course for the second planet in the system.’

  EKOS-2

  The first sign Ekos-2 was somehow different was all the color. While the previous planet was undeniably flourishing, its biosphere consisted of forests and prairies, all in shades of green and brown.

  This world, in contrast, was painted in the spectrum of the rainbow. Fields of enormous, vibrant flowers stretched for kilometers. Even the trees were colorful, sporting leaves of blue, orange and violet in addition to every hue of green. There were pink trees, of all things.

  But as inviting as the surface appeared, they stayed well aloft, cruising two kilometers high while they studied the various regions and gathered data.

  Now that they knew what to search for, it was easy to spot the ‘noise’ on the infrasound band. “This planet’s alive, too—or rather its plants are.”

  Caleb was peering intently out the viewport, eyes narrowed. “Valkyrie, what are the odds of the same kind of life spontaneously arising in the same time frame on two separate planets?”

  ‘Low, but not zero. This universe may feature innate characteristics favorable to this particular form of life. As such, both planets could have been ‘pollinated’ with the precursors by asteroid or comet impacts.’

  “And what would constitute ‘characteristics favorable to this particular form of life?’ ”

  ‘That I do not know.’

  “Don’t feel bad, Valkyrie. I don’t think anyone does.” He crossed his arms over his chest. “The TLF wave from this portal points to this system. Maybe the better question is which came first? The life or the signal?”

  Alex nodded in agreement. “They could be watching because they found life here, or they could be watching because they created life here. But either way, it’s here now. Let’s try starting with the gentle approach this time. I’m going to launch a probe but give it a soft landing…ahead here in this field of unnaturally gorgeous flowers. Hopefully they won’t eat it.”

  They slowed to hover above the field. She released the probe and held her breath as it descended, landed, bounced once and skidded to a stop. Despite the attempt at gentleness, it surely must have torn a leaf or two during the landing. Yet the plants didn’t swarm the probe in anger.

  They did tentatively curl in toward it.

  The subsonic waves increased in magnitude, and she activated the microphone on the probe.

  A low-level but distinctive hum filled the cabin. It rose and fell in harmonic steps, multi-tonal and infinitely complex. The sonance wasn’t grating or discordant, but instead quite pleasing to the ear.

  Her face lit up. “It sounds like the planet’s singing.”

  “I admit, it does. Are we getting anything else?”

  ‘The life form is not reacting in an overtly negative manner to the probe’s presence. There are no tectonic tremors, nor are visual scanners picking up the formation of any vertical structures attempting to reach us. The plants in the vicinity of the probe do, however, appear to be…stroking it.’

  “They’re petting the probe?”

  ‘I’m certain this is their method for investigating it. But lacking a more descriptive word, yes.’

  “Damn.” Her fingertip slid along the HUD and she rotated the probe’s camera around. As she did, the plants in front of the camera shrank away as if in surprise. Then, perhaps deducing the camera wasn’t goin
g to attack them, they drew closer.

  A stalk darted out and poked the camera lens with its tip then swiftly withdrew. A few seconds passed, and it darted out again. This time instead of jerking back, the tip of the leaf ran over the lens several times before withdrawing. It was like a child investigating a new toy—timid at first, but curiosity increasingly winning out.

  Her eyes were dancing as she met Caleb’s gaze. “I don’t think this planet’s hostile.”

  He glanced out the viewport. “We need to have the probe take a specimen.”

  “Cut off a leaf? I…” she frowned, tilting her head at the feed from the camera “…I don’t want to.”

  “Oh, now you’re worried about the well-being of the local vegetation? I’m sorry, but before we risk a trip down, we have to know how the flora react to damage.”

  ‘Given the events on the last planet, I’m not comfortable advising a trip to the surface.’

  She groaned in exasperation. “What are we here for then, Valkyrie? We’ll be careful, but there’s no reward—no knowledge gained—without risk.”

  ‘I recognize that, but the risk is comparatively high. It is your decision, however.’

  She didn’t toggle on their link, not particularly caring to hear the full extent of Valkyrie’s opinion on the matter. “Yes, it is. Extending the shears.”

  She directed the probe arm to a different plant than the curious one. Even so, she cringed as the clamp closed around a leaf and severed it from its stalk.

  The song filling the cabin turned mournful and melancholy, and the plants backed away from the probe in palpable suspicion. They didn’t attack; instead they seemed to wilt, losing some of their vigor.

  “God, talk about a guilt trip….” She extended the robotic arm farther, the shorn leaf still in its grasp. Then she had the arm deposit the leaf on the ground and retract into the probe’s casing.

  The plant it had belonged to reached out and wound the surviving stalk around its lost appendage. It picked the leaf up and drew it into itself. In the cabin, the song gradually eased up on the sorrowful tenor, though it didn’t regain its former vibrancy.

  Caleb finally allowed a measure of excitement to show in his expression. “So we go down there.”

  “I agree.” She massaged her shoulder as she stood. The pain from her wound had spread to encompass her upper arm as well, almost to her neck…and it was possible the injury was causing her growing headache. She was beginning to think Caleb was right, and they would have to go home and have a specialist look at it.

  Reluctantly she opened the connection to Valkyrie. Don’t bitch at me about going to the surface. Just tell me how my arm’s doing.

  In vernacular terms? Not good. All attempts by your immune system to fight the infection have been ineffective, and it has spread into the skin and tissue of your upper arm. I have been able to identify the core infection as caused by a fungal-type prion, but it has since mutated into a form more dangerous to humans—to you.

  What if I took a stronger dose of biocide?

  The last dose you took was the stronger dose.

  Right. Keep working it, please.

  Alex, I’m concerned for your health.

  You think we should go home?

  It may be the only option, though my optimism as to the result is limited.

  You mean you don’t believe our doctors can treat it?

  It is alien, hence not understood. I think, therefore, the outcome is unknown.

  Great. We’ll decide after we get back.

  About that—

  Not listening.

  She dropped her hand from her shoulder on realizing Caleb was watching her out of the corner of his eye and quickly started getting ready for the trip to the surface below.

  Caleb descended the ramp ahead of Alex. All indications were this planet was not inherently dangerous, but the same could have been said of the previous world until they unwittingly did the wrong thing. ‘The wrong thing’ might be different for this planet yet incite just as violent a reaction. As a result, this time they wore full environment suits and confirmed each other’s seals before exiting the Siyane.

  His left foot alighted on the grass; he paused, all his senses on heightened alert, but no attack came. He took another step. The ground was surprisingly pliant, the grasses forming a thick pelt above the dirt. So far so good.

  He sensed Alex slip away from behind him. He turned to see her kneel in front of a cluster of orange and gold flowering plants. “If you tear a petal off, I will communicate my displeasure in new and interesting ways.”

  Her laugh echoed in his helmet. “Tempting thought, but I’ll refrain.” She fumbled at her belt and unlatched a tool. “I did bring a portable scanner, however. Let’s see if we can non-intrusively learn something about the way their neural processes function.”

  She passed the scanner over the flowering shoot and stem. The plant didn’t react immediately, but after a few seconds one of the leaves reached out to caress the scanner. Alex squealed in delight.

  Yes, squealed. Needless to say, it was a reaction most people wouldn’t expect from her. But he’d learned these last months that when truly at ease, she often expressed a childlike wonder at the sights they witnessed. It had been a beautiful discovery on his part.

  He crouched beside her. “Getting anything?”

  She waved the scanner above the nearest flower. The petals danced around in response, triggering a subdued but still delightful chuckle from her. “Um…” she cleared her throat and attempted to be serious “…the filaments are behaving like axons. They run all the way down the stalk into the roots and are actively firing. Firing what, I can’t say.”

  He gazed around the field. The foliage was among the most vibrant he’d ever seen. It stretched to the horizon, but the terrain was open and inviting, lacking the brambles and widespread underbrush the first planet had displayed. Down the slope to their right, trees with broad, expansive limbs and ornate leaves lined a bubbling creek. The sounds the probe had picked up—more song than noise—filled the air, subtle but pervasive.

  He took a deep breath…and relaxed. A little. Whatever this intelligence was, it appeared to be more welcoming than that of its sister planet. This didn’t mean it wouldn’t turn on them, but it evidently would take a greater offense to provoke it.

  Alex stood, and though it was hidden beneath the helmet’s faceplate, he didn’t miss the grimace which passed across her face as she did. Her right arm hung with disturbing limpness at her side.

  “It’s getting worse, isn’t it?”

  “Yeah.”

  The fact she didn’t brush him off and instead admitted her discomfort meant the injury was causing her significant pain at this point. He checked the ship; Valkyrie had retracted the ramp and closed the hatch in order to prevent an incursion by any would-be intruders.

  They should leave now and head straight home; he worried if they waited much longer she might be in serious trouble—

  —she grabbed his hand and began coaxing him down the slope toward the trees. “Come on, let’s investigate the creek.”

  He sighed and followed her. Surely a few more minutes wouldn’t make a difference.

  The trees were made of a pale Aspen-like bark. It was soft and flexible, for the limbs and even the trunk swayed in the breeze. The leaves were similar to ivy and hung in curtains nearly to the ground.

  He reached up to hold one of the curtains to the side so they could pass through to the creek. Before he was able to do so, however, the limb lifted itself up to form an archway. He whistled quietly, admittedly enthralled.

  “This is astonishing.”

  “It is.” Any lingering doubt as to the sentience of the intelligence inhabiting the planet departed with the act. It was one thing to react out of instinct when attacked, or to what one perceived as an attack. It was another thing entirely to act of one’s own initiative in a manner such as this.

  The life on these planets was the most alien he had
ever encountered—anyone had ever encountered. Mesme had been other, but the alien was a discrete being, one which spoke their language and took on humanoid form. The Metigen ships were unusual, massive and powerful, but they were AIs in the same fundamental way Valkyrie was AI. This place, though, this life form….

  A strand of ivy from the tree to his left extended out ever so slowly and touched his glove. He stretched his arm in front of him, palm upturned. The individual leaves stroked his palm through the material of his glove. Not wanting to startle the tree and disrupt the interaction, he pulsed her.

  Alex.

  She was at the edge of the creek but pivoted at his message. A hand came to her faceplate, her gasp audible in his helmet. He smiled, caught up in the playfulness of the tree’s gesture.

  Two of the leaves slithered up to his wrist and poked at the suit’s seal. It was impervious to their efforts, but they continued prodding at the seal. His brow furrowed. Was this communication? Were they asking him to remove his glove?

  He pondered what to do. Alex had said it on the ship: what were they here for if not this? Decision made, he reached over with his other hand and unlatched the seal.

  “Caleb!”

  “It’s all right. I think.”

  The ivy curled around his glove, and more leaves drew to his wrist. Their tips slipped inside the seal and, as he stood there watching in amazement, tugged his glove off his hand. The glove fell to the ground and the leaves flattened out and enveloped his palm—

  Wind rustles downy hairs protecting a newly sprouted leaf.

  Sun bears down.

  Leaf wants to stretch out in the warmth.

  The light helps it to grow stronger.

  It is pleased.

  All is pleased.

  There. Ice on the bark of a barren tree chills.

  Shivering.

  Tree waits for sun to arrive in its time.

  Here. Dirt.

  Cool, protective.

  Nourishes a sea of grasses, welcomes its protracting roots.

  Water propels a single cell of algae along its flows.