The Pattern Ship

by Tobias Roote

  He glanced over at the small square of Pheson Alacite on the control desk. Was it actually glowing ?

  Zeke finally nodded at him. He had a look on his face that Zirkos interpreted to be close to fainting and he was leaning heavily against the chair. That seemed to be another thing he needed to learn about these people, their ability to manage things outside their realm of expectancy, and the reactions it created in them.

  “Ship, close porthole,” Zirkos commanded.

  He led a now subdued Zeke to a room that he had set up as a small lounge, in an effort to give them both an area to meet on neutral ground. This was something he had also researched on how to discuss difficult and personal situations with people.

  He watched as the human sat down, his face looked very white. Zirkos wondered if creating the porthole had been the right thing to do. He was missing the opportunity to check Zeke’s vital signs as he was no longer part of the AI network. He would just have to continue to watch for any outward sign of trouble. Ship would warn him if any serious side effects were manifesting.

  Zeke was physically shaking in delayed reaction as he sat down and took one fist in the other hand to bring it under control. He had been shown, without doubt, and in a very commanding way, that he was in space and that everything happening was for real. You can accept something mentally, but only when you confront it physically, does it actually become something you have to deal with on all levels.

  It was like imagining facing down the barrel of a loaded gun. Up until the time it actually happens, you know it probably means you are going to die, but actually being there, with the gun inches from your face, the certainty becomes a matter of fact. The body reacts to that, not the mind.

  Zirkos sat across from him, with a look that Zeke interpreted as concern.

  It was amazing how human-looking this alien being was. The differences in their physical bodies were, on the surface, minimal. Zirkos spoke and behaved like a natural person of Earth, not an alien. Although there were frequent slip-ups in the body language that Zeke saw as attempts at mimicry, he still thought the alien was a close relative of humans, somewhere along the evolutionary chain.

  “Zeke, you are already aware your metal plate was poisoning your body through your bloodstream. I have studied up on your physiology which is not that much different to my people so I think I can relate to what was going on quite well.

  The metal is what you term as radioactive, but not like your plutonium. It has qualities that are helpful to your body if managed in the right proportions. Your body was overdosing on it continually as your blood attempted to break down the radiation building up in your body too fast.

  When we retrieved the plate, we also extracted much of the metal out of your bloodstream.”

  Zeke nodded, understanding everything so far.

  Zirkos took the small cube of Alacite he had taken off the control panel on the way into the room, and handed it to him.

  “This was what was taken out of your body. It has mutated in a strange way.”

  “What do you mean by strange ?”

  “To explain that, I must first tell you more about the metal. Your scientists have only recently discovered it, through you, in fact, and, yes, before you mention it, I have seen their research notes.

  You were not aware that they were monitoring you right up to the time you nearly died. They had no intention of retrieving you, they were only going to recover the Pheson Alacite, and place it into another human, while they continued to study the effects and benefits.”

  “Jesus wept ! I had no idea. I thought I was hidden from them, but they had me under wraps all the time. Bastards !”

  “Yes, unfortunately their approach wasn’t helpful to you, but much of the human way of dealing with these issues is antagonistic. It’s how you say, ‘making yourself your own worst enemy’.

  That said, I believe your race to be moving ahead quickly, on many different science fronts. I am unable to see anything wrong in the overall pattern of your race’s development. In other ways, however, you decimate individuals and small groups that are unable to defend themselves. I think this is a sad reflection of what is proving to be an innovative way to develop.

  But, back to the point here and it’s important to keep to it. I am part historian, and a collector of all things, so like to discuss things over wide time spans, to no great effect.”

  Zirkos smiled as he tried to keep his human companion at ease.

  “The point, Zeke, is that the mutation of the metal, your people call ‘Ferrazite,’ is of a beneficial nature and your body has already amalgamated it into your genetic make-up. So much so, that we could only remove eighty five percent of it. As a mutated alloy it is not, like other metals such as iron, a part of your natural bodily make-up, but now you need it to continue to develop.”

  “What do you mean, ‘continue to develop’ ?”

  “Well, your body has been going through change. You are younger, fitter, faster, stronger. If you know your superman comics and films, you will not develop superpowers, but you are becoming resistant to certain things, like pain, injury and so on. The pain threshold, you were enduring from the poisonous effects of the Alacite, was tremendous. Much more than you could have endured, without the ongoing mutation building your capacity to manage it.

  At the same time, your reactions are getting quicker and your muscles are improving. Your body will continue to develop along those lines but I have no data on where it will end.

  Your scientists appeared to realise some of this very early on, which makes them very perceptive and good innovative researchers, but they did this at your expense and treated you badly. However, their intent is not without merit. Again, if you look at how these advances evolve outside of their original parameters, it benefits humanity on the whole.”

  “Many of our own people consider such scientists to be barbaric,” Zeke argued.

  “Having been on the receiving end of that, I wouldn’t say necessarily so, but they seem to be immune to the harm and suffering they cause. This is probably through the need to analyse the person as an experiment, getting beyond the humanity to interpret the science, I suppose,” he finished.

  “ I think your planet has a common belief system that the ‘end justifies the means’ and this only becomes apparent or controversial when humans, or certain other species, are affected.”

  “WARNING !“

  “What is it, Ship ?”

  “We are being scanned by the planet’s satellite and ground radar systems. I detect some form of radiation detection system. They appear to be locking onto us using Pheson Alacite as an anchor,” Ship explained.

  “Are we cloaked ?”

  “No, Maker, cloaking now.”

  Ship was suddenly respectful, aware that it should have anticipated and neutralised the possibility. Complacency was not a normal emotional response for an AI, even a ‘seven’, but Ship was unique in that it was an imprint of its Maker, and, therefore, consisted of deeper arrays and a broader awareness. Sometimes a facsimile of sentience crept into its routines. It decided to do a system clean at the first opportunity.

  Zeke noticed a slight shimmering as the ship’s colour spectrum seemed to shift.

  “Re-position us within directional range of their radar, but on a different heading. We will see if their systems can still detect us,” Zirkos commanded.

  The ship proceeded to D-jump to a new location. They spent a few tense minutes waiting for a response from the planet below.

  “Planet and orbital radar appears no longer able to fix our position,” Ship announced.

  “Monitor and analyse their efforts, Ship. Advise if we come under detection again,” Zirkos commanded.

  “Affirmative.”

  “As you can see, Zeke, your people are much more advanced in their thinking than I would have credited. Somebody must have taken a big intuitive leap when you disappeared off the planet. We will have to deal with that soon. In the meantime, ho
w do you want to proceed ?”

  Zeke looked bemused by the question. Zirkos decided he had instinctively made the correct choice in letting him decide his own fate. He personally wanted Zeke to stay, but he wanted it to be his decision. He could see him dwelling on everything that had happened.

  After a few minutes of pondering, he seemed to come to a decision, and Zeke looked up at the ceiling.

  “Ship ?”

  “Yes, Zeke.”

  “Can you rustle up a cup of coffee ?”

  “Affirmative, Zeke. Is that with milk and sugar, or plain black ?” Ship asked.

  “White, three sugars, please, Ship.”

  There was silence for a few seconds. Then, a tall white china coffee cup materialised on the table, filled with steaming dark brown contents. The aroma was instantly recognisable as a filter coffee blend from his local coffee shop.

  “Thank you, Ship.”

  Zeke smiled, wondering briefly if some poor schmuck back on Earth had suddenly seen their fresh coffee disappear from in front of their very eyes.

  He took the mug by the handle and drew it up to his mouth, tasted the contents and then grinned at Zirkos.

  “A little strong, but perfect tasting coffee. If you don’t mind, I would like to stay, especially if Ship can rustle up the occasional burger and fries, even if it has to materialise it from my local takeaway,” Zeke responded.

  Zirkos laughed. “Well, I think I would have preferred it if your decision had been based on something a little more profound, like universal peace or the future of mankind, but I suspect that such mundane things as a beverage, or a meal, can come high up the list in deciding factors.”

  “Exactly !” Zeke affirmed.

  They both chuckled. Zirkos, already accepting the humans decision to stay, felt good about the prospect. It would be interesting to see where all of this went, although he knew, for some reason as yet outside of his perception, that these people were important to him, in some way.

  “So, what do you want me to do around here, then ?”

  “Do, Zeke ?”

  “Yes, I’m not going to sit here twiddling my thumbs, I need to be doing something. When you clobbered me in the shop that night, doing whatever it was you do with those light beams, I was in the process of stealing the things I needed to create an identity and get myself somewhere to live and a job.”

  “Stealing... ah yes, I understand your meaning, Zeke. We should have need of your involvement shortly although I hadn’t anticipated using you to steal anything. Pod is way too good at that already.” He laughed.

  “Firstly, I think we should have a lengthy discussion about your world and mine and what we can do together. There are dangers lurking in space that are going to affect your people, sooner or later.

  I believe with your country’s recent space exploration, you will attract attention very soon and you need to be able to protect yourself.”

  “Oh, you mean there are non-friendly bugs out there ?” Zeke smiled, as if only half believing him.

  “Ha Ha !” Zirkos laughed.

  “Zeke, you have no idea !”

  - 13 -

  “You mean, they are like a wasp hive, you attack one and they all come after you in a swarm ?” Zeke was astounded as Zirkos explained the possibility of the Nubl hordes descending on Earth.

  “Yes, the Nubl are a hive mind and are linked to their own nests. If you attack them, the others will home in on you and are relentless in pursuit. If you take on a single Nubl, you must also be able to handle a massive full-on attack, in the event they can steer themselves through a wormhole to your location.”

  “Geez ! And you think these are going to be making a bee-line, ha-ha joke, for us as soon as they register our ability to enter into space ?”

  “Yes, I do. The problem is, they have already been coming to this solar system for millennia. It was they that destroyed my ship and forced a landing on your planet. So I know this is on their path of dispersal. They may revisit as frequently as every two to three hundred years. If their last visit was prior to your industrial revolution there would have been nothing technically advanced to show up on their scans.”

  “...then their next one could be about due, sometime this century,” Zeke finished.

  “Yes, I think that would be what I would expect,” Zirkos affirmed.

  Zeke sat there, deep in thought. Zirkos wondered what he was thinking about, wishing there was a way that humans could share thoughts like artificial intelligences were capable of doing.

  As if reading his thoughts Zeke started thinking out loud causing Zirkos to smile inwardly as he concentrated on what his new ally was saying.

  “If a force of any size came to Earth any time soon, then we’d be sunk. There are only a few countries who could retaliate and if I’m right, your technology is way behind theirs, meaning they would have advanced beyond our ability to defend ourselves, even with your assistance.” He looked at Zirkos for confirmation of his immediate and damning assessment.

  Zirkos simply nodded realising that Zeke was just getting started and wanting to hear him out.

  “If the technology you have on this ship was to be widely available. There is a chance that we might put up a defence, of sorts.” Zeke paused to look at Zirkos hoping to get some affirmation that the alien would share its knowledge with Earth.

  Zirkos wasn’t sure how much he would be prepared to hand over, but nodded encouragingly. There were rules, written and unwritten about handing emergent races enough technology to destroy themselves and everything around them. He hedged his bets by putting his current viewpoint.

  “Zeke, the problem I have is - your planet is very competitive, yet many of your countries would be left behind in the development of new technology, whilst others would be secretive and not share any advancements. All of which would be detrimental to any plan you hope to form,”

  Zeke considered for a moment, his newly recovered mental faculties flashing through the options that all this was bringing. The whole plan might well hinge on forming some kind of world consensus. A central controlling interest. He would have to think about that for another, later, discussion. In the meantime, he understood where Zirkos was going with his input and decided that it was the right approach for now. Although he did have plenty of other ideas to put out, he was more oriented towards the way his fellow humans thought and behaved. He reigned himself in and responded to Zirkos.

  “So, if we stand any hope of dealing with them when they come, we have to get the whole world together and work as a team.” Zeke mused. Then actually realising the enormity of the operation, he raised his voice in concern.

  “Do you have ANY idea how impossible that is going to be ?” he asked the silver alien sitting opposite him.

  “Yes, I do. Which is why I need you to become my Ambassador.”

  “Your what ? Ambassador ? How on Earth... aah ! I think I see. Well, actually, no I don’t, tell me what you mean.”

  Zirkos had been waiting to get the conversation to this point. He needed to push this human to the point that the idea would evolve as a natural conclusion. Zirkos had weeks now to mull the issues and had already largely mapped out the way forward.

  “Zeke, I am just one alien being. Yet, to succeed, I need to quickly and efficiently forge links with your world’s leaders - all of them that matter, anyway. There isn’t going to be time to waste on misunderstandings.“

  Zirkos went on to explain what was needed.

  “I already see marked differences in perception between what you and I think. Imagine this at a global level with secret and your individual nationalistic interests getting in the way of logic and common sense. What you and I already perceive as a difficult, but achievable mission will be seen by some as an opportunity, others as a threat. While still others will want to bargain for advantage where there is none save working as one race for the survival of all.” He hesitated.

  “Ship and I have been monitoring you
r military and political groups wherever we can establish a high level of intrusion to gain some semblance of the mentality I will have to deal with.

  “The fact is you humans are like squabbling children and will not accept facts coming from me even wrapped up in presents of technology sharing. The power I hold in terms of technical power will only be seen as a domineering threat, an attempt to take over your world for my own purposes. I don’t want your leaders to fight a resistance war with me. It’s self defeating in the worst way,” Zirkos pleaded before continuing, he glanced out the window and looked down at a cloud-cast continent that looked peaceful and calm that itself was hiding the potential for turbulence that would be evoked by direct intervention by him.

  “I need someone with me who will steer things the right way with your leaders. And, of course, we can monitor your health while you are working,” he added quickly.

  Zirkos wondered if the job idea meant he should offer money, so he decided to add it to the pot.

  “Payment for your services can be made, if you wish to have an ‘official’ job, but you won’t need for anything here. Ship, or I, can supply you with just about anything you desire.”

  Zeke laughed, thinking that coffee and Big Mac’s sounded right up his alley. He’d watched Zirkos struggle with the language, but realised very quickly, the language wasn’t the barrier they had to worry about. Zirkos was right. His alienness, the technology and the promise of technology sharing would be looked upon with a lot of greed mixed with deep suspicion. There would be those who would be sniffing around the deal looking for the bait hook and wondering when the other shoe was going to drop. They would need a better, perhaps a more direct approach.

  ***

  The President sat in his winged leather armchair, pulling on his moustache. His wife, and his PR team, all said it was distinguished, but he couldn’t wait until his term finished and he could shave the blasted thing off.

  Unusually, he was not planning on running for a second term. His first had been bad enough. He’d had no idea the difficulties of being the Head of State of the USA would hamstring him so effectively. He wanted to achieve so much, but because of the politics, the favours owed, allegiances and strength of lobbyists, there was no room for his own personal agendas. As a result, he was feeling disenchanted with everything. It wasn’t what he’d promised himself at the start of his campaign. Now, he was lucky if he even had a moment to think about the promises he had made himself. The desire to contribute in some way to world peace, brokering deals that would lead to disarmament, lowering of world tensions. All seemed so achievable then. Now, it was a distant memory of a fading dream, one removed from reality. A wisp of intent.