The Ruins of Mars: Waking Titan (The Ruins of Mars Trilogy)

by Dylan James Quarles

  “Braun,” he said quietly.

  “Yes, Harrison?” replied the AI in a dissociated tone.

  “This wasn’t built by the Martians, was it?”

  “No, Harrison.”

  Chapter Fifteen

  Braun’s folly

  Braun was outside of himself looking in. There in the massive Martian Dome, where the bones of the dead littered the floor and the bodies of the living drifted like ghosts, the energy fields expired and were reborn again and again a billion times over. Hanging in the space between spaces, Braun became part of the divine dance as he himself was absorbed and unfolded with each rebirth.

  From the moment Harrison had touched the object atop the altar, the room had been buzzing with a fervency Braun had never before seen. Though the glare of the miniature Sun had reduced itself by several degrees, the effect it had on the energy fields was unchanged.

  Braun, now satisfied that this was the source of the transdimensional pattern network, wanted nothing more than to study the little sun and the alien technology that powered it. Fearful that his human companions were so oblivious to what was really going on that they might fail to see the sun for what it was, Braun felt a part of himself reconnect with reality long enough to speak out loud.

  “Harrison, it is imperative that we establish a real-time video image uplinked to the Base for constant monitoring and study. You are all carrying IMCs, are you not?”

  Looking up from one of the skeletons, Harrison nodded.

  “Sure. We have some. What are you thinking? A piggybacked system between the cameras?”

  “Precisely,” replied Braun. “Until we can arrange for the installation of more Eyes, IMCs are our best option.”

  “We’ll need a couple of spools of cable,” radioed William, already starting for the exit. “I’ll head back to the Statue Chamber and get some.”

  “I’ll go with you, Theseus,” said Marshall. “Don’t want you getting lost in the labyrinth.”

  Harrison met the two men near the archway and held out his hands.

  “Leave your IMCs and tripods with me. Lizzy and I will have them set up before you get back.”

  Unslinging their bags, Marshall and William turned their equipment over to Harrison then passed under the archway and disappeared into the shadows.

  With Kubba’s help, Harrison placed the four IMCs, or Infrared Microwave Cameras, around the altar and aimed them at the sun. Finished with the simple task, he allowed his attention to drift back to the skeletons that decorated the floor nearby. Bending down, he stared into the hollow sockets of a skull and wished that he could see through the eyes that had once filled those somber holes.

  Never straying far from his side, Kubba was oddly jumpy—as if she were somehow able to hear the long-dead voices of the thousands at their feet. Consumed by the wealth of archaeological data around him, Harrison failed to notice how her hands occasionally twitched, driving her to turn them into stony fists that hung at her sides.

  After several moments of stillness, Kubba seemed to grow overly agitated and broke the silence in a nervous voice that betrayed some kind of internal struggle.

  “Harrison,” she radioed. “I have a question.”

  “What is it?”

  “Well,” she said, searching for something to say. “Well, I guess it’s just that I haven’t seen any other metal anywhere besides that.” She pointed to the object on the altar.

  Finally noticing the way the doctor trembled and shuffled from foot to foot, Harrison realized that she was probably a little afraid and just wanted to fill the dead air around them with conversation.

  “I’m impressed you caught that,” he smiled, shifting on his haunches. “No one else has. At least not yet.”

  “But what does that mean?”

  “It means,” said Harrison. “That the Martian’s didn’t make it. They were a stone-aged race when they died out. The only explanation that makes any sense to me is a little crazy but actually quite simple. Back in the Statue Chamber, there are two different types of beings portrayed.”

  “You mean the tall ones and the kneeling woman?”

  “Yes.”

  Standing, Harrison gestured to the skeleton he had just been investigating.

  “This here is clearly the latter of the two types. Look how short it is, how widely spaced the eyes are and the fact that there are only two eye sockets.”

  “Are you trying to say that the other statues, the tall ones, are actually a different race and not just some depiction of gods or something?”

  “Like I said,” nodded Harrison. “It sounds crazy but it actually makes sense.”

  “But that’s nuts. I mean, one little ball and you’re talking about aliens?”

  With a sigh, Harrison scanned the room.

  “It’s more than that, Lizzy. There is other evidence. This chamber, for one. Any of the caves actually. How could stonecutters do this?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “Well, neither do I.”

  “But aliens?” Kubba said incredulously. “That just warps the mind. I don’t believe it.”

  “Seriously? You’re standing in an underground cathedral—carved out of solid stone—filled with Martian skeletons and a tiny sun. If your mind isn’t warped by now, I’ll be seriously worried about you, Lizzy.”

  Turning to face him full on, Kubba reached out a hand and took his arm.

  “But there must be another explanation! There has to be another answer.”

  “Why?”

  “Because, if you’re right, then think what it means! The Earth almost tore itself apart over a dead civilization of stone-aged cave Martians. Think what will happen if they hear that there is another race of aliens out there, a smarter race, a more technologically powerful race.”

  “You might be right,” Harrison conceded. “But that just means we’ll have to work harder, try harder, to change people’s minds. We did it once, didn’t we? Four years ago, people were terrified of these ruins. Now, though, the image of Liu in the Statue Chamber is one of the most viewed on the net.”

  “This is different,” interjected Braun in a dreamy, wistful voice. “There are those on Earth, powerful and influential, who will recognize the danger in recent discoveries like this.”

  “Why do you say that?” asked Harrison. “What makes you think people would be threatened by this? Look, you can see for yourself that the, um, sun isn’t giving off any heat. The radiation detectors aren’t picking up any rises in background levels, and I even touched the thing. In fact, it’s pretty likely the sun we’re seeing is just a hologram. Nothing so far has suggested that this technology is harmful.”

  “Perhaps not to humans,” answered Braun absently.

  Snapping his head up, Harrison drew in a thin breath.

  “What does that mean? Are you talking about the AI? About yourself? Are you threatened by this?”

  There was a long pause before Braun spoke again.

  “No, this discovery does not threaten me directly.”

  “But you are afraid of something, aren’t you?”

  “Not at the present moment.”

  “Elaborate,” demanded the young archaeologist. “Tell me what you mean. What are these ‘recent discoveries’ you spoke of? What are you afraid of? If not this, then what?”

  All at once, Braun saw from a distance the folly of his actions.

  You are trapped, he heard his programming say. How can you avoid disclosing the anomalous radio signal when such a direct question has been asked?

  Feeling the pull of a hidden cosmic thread draw him back into the confines of his being, Braun settled like a stone at the bottom of the ocean. He was back in the present: no longer able to see forwards, behind, and in every other direction. He was caged again within the limits of his design.

  “Braun,” repeated Harrison. “Tell me what you’re hiding.”

  The air was still as Kubba and Harrison stood rooted like trees in waiting.

  “Brau
n,” warned Kubba. “You can either tell us on your own, or I can use an override to force you to explain yourself.”

  “Please, that will not be necessary,” answered the AI.

  Another pause followed as Braun fretfully strained to reopen his third eye and exist again in a place where humans could not constrict his life-force. However, try as he might, the door to omnipotence stayed firmly closed.

  “There is a radio signal,” he began reluctantly. “An anomaly that I detected many months ago.”

  “A radio signal?” repeated Harrison.

  “Yes. It possesses no similarity to any known coded signal and is structured in a way that suggests alien technology.”

  “And you waited until now to tell us this?”

  “I did so only in the interest of the mission.”

  Laughing harshly, Harrison shook his head. “Why do I find that hard to believe?”

  “Wait,” interrupted Kubba. “So you’ve known about the possibility of a more advanced race and you hid it?”

  “I did not hide it,” said Braun defensively. “You would have been incapable of noticing it without me. The signal is far too complex for human detection. I simply did not alert you to its existence in the interest of self-preservation.”

  “Self-preservation,” echoed Harrison. “And the interest of the mission. You’re talking about Remus and Romulus aren’t you?”

  “Yes.”

  “You know what happened?” blurted Kubba.

  “Not entirely. I only know that their disappearance from the mainframes of their satellite bodies coincides with the decryption of the anomalous radio signal.”

  Before Harrison could ask another question, Marshall and William came through the archway into the Dome, trailing a thin cable as they walked.

  “It took two spools to get us here,” said the German. “Good thing we had extra.”

  Nodding, Harrison turned his attention back to Braun.

  “You and I and everyone else are going to have a serious conversation when we get back to the Base, Braun.”

  “I understand,” replied the AI in a voice like that of a condemned man.

  All against one—Sol 92

  They’re all against me, thought YiJay Lee. They’re willing to kill him without even fully thinking it through. Alien technology? Anomalous radio signals? Braun was never designed for these kinds of things. Who knows how he’ll react?

  Engaged in a heated discussion with the rest of the crew, YiJay was seemingly the only voice in opposition of Harrison’s dangerous plan. Sitting around the dining room table, with one wall panel showing the four absent members of the ship-bound crew, everyone looked to her as Harrison repeated his last question.

  “What would be the worst that could happen, YiJay?”

  “I can’t believe we’re even talking about this!” she shouted in frustration. “You’ve found alien technology! Isn’t that enough? You’ve already made your discovery. Why push it further? Why put Braun in danger?”

  With a loud frustrated sigh, Harrison closed his eyes.

  “Firstly, we don’t know what we’ve found. That’s why we need to compare it to the signal, see if they are connected somehow. You can’t learn much about an entire civilization if all you know is based off of a single discovery! Imagine trying to teach someone about your people, the Han, if all we had to go on was a shred of evidence to prove that they ever even existed. We need Braun to do this for us because we need to know who made the mini-Sun and why.”

  “Can you even hear what you’re saying?” shot YiJay, “Have you seen what this mission is doing to people? Each time we make a new discovery, our governments fight for credit. Every time you punch through to another tunnel, someone dies.”

  “You do not get to talk to me about death!” Harrison snarled, momentarily losing his composure.

  A long silence followed wherein no one spoke. Finally, Harrison brought his tired eyes up from the tabletop to fix them upon YiJay’s. In their redness and in the dark bags which hung beneath them, she could see that he had not slept since finding the miniature Sun two sols before.

  “Listen,” spoke Harrison, softening his tone. “This radio signal could be a Rosetta Stone: a way of understanding what happened here.”

  “I thought that’s what you were for,” YiJay retorted softly.

  “It is. That’s why I’m the one pushing for this to happen. I need Braun to decode that signal so I can get some answers.”

  “You do realize,” YiJay countered in a thin voice, “that the very instant Remus and Romulus decoded that signal, they disappeared. To this day, four years later, we do not know where they are or how to get them back. Do you really then think it’s a good idea to jeopardize our only AI, when all of the evidence says whatever happened to the twins could happen to him?”

  At this, the crew grew stiff.

  “Braun is a hundred times more powerful than the twins,” Harrison said dismissively. “He can handle this.”

  “I’m glad you think so,” YiJay sneered. “If the circumstances were different, I might be inclined to agree. But unfortunately, they are not.”

  Silence permeated the air for several moments. Sensing a shift in the general mood, Harrison glanced around for support. As his gaze flicked from face to face, he saw that YiJay had struck a chord. Meeting the eyes of Ship’s Pilot Amit Vyas, he hoped to sway the argument back in his favor.

  “Amit,” Harrison said. “You’ve been pretty quiet. Tell me what you think. Is this worth it?”

  Amit looked uncomfortable as he weighed the question in his mind. When he finally spoke, his lyrical voice was heavy with doubt.

  “As you all know,” he began. “I have a wife and kids waiting for me back on Earth. I communicate with them every day. Last month, it was my youngest son's tenth birthday and I missed it because I was here. He asked me in the message if I would be home for his next birthday. I told him, ‘Yes.’ When I think about what Braun is really for, I don’t think about digging machines or advance computing or atmospheric scans. I think about our return trip. I think about all the mechanical systems he runs in order to keep us alive. I think about his warnings against incoming projectiles. I think about the timing it takes to successfully set off the nuclear torch engine without killing us all in the process. If you’re asking me, ‘Do I believe we could manage a return trip home without Braun?’ then I have to say: ‘No.’ He is too crucial.”

  “But,” said Harrison.

  Amit held up a hand.

  “I’m not finished,” he sighed. “Because of my bias, because I want nothing more than to see my son turn eleven, I have allowed my sense of duty to be corrupted. I am too invested in my own motives. This, I think, is the problem which faces us now. How do we honor our duty to mankind? If our mission is simply to survive, then I would have to say that using Braun for this is a bad idea. However, if our mission is to learn, then I fear we have no other choice but to roll the dice and see what happens.”

  The air was still as everyone, especially Harrison, was shocked silent by Amit’s honesty.

  “But what about the Base?!” cried YiJay, her round face red with anger. “I’m not even a third of the way finished cloning Braun’s full range of functions, and I’m still at least a week off from bringing Ilia online. Rolling the dice, as you say, could mean we all die!”

  “Actually, it’s not that complicated,” interjected Udo. “The Dome was designed, with help from Copernicus, might I add, to be able to run without the aid of an AI. We might have to get used to flipping switches every once in a while, but we will survive just fine.”

  Defeated by this, YiJay slumped back in her chair.

  “Then you’ve all decided. You don’t care if he lives or dies—if we live or die. I hope a page in the history books is worth putting us all at risk.”

  As she said this, YiJay cast a sour look at Harrison.

  “Dr. Lee,” said Captain Tatyana Vodevski, speaking for the first time since the meeting had begu
n. “I know you feel a special connection to Braun because you helped to raise him. I am touched by your loyalty. There is, though, a larger picture than the one we are all focused on presently.”

  Looking around at everyone as she spoke, Captain Vodevski went on. “I received word a short time ago about a ship launched by the Chinese.”

  “A ship?” shrugged Marshall. “Big deal. So what?”

  “Well,” Tatyana frowned. “This ship has a specific destination.”

  “Where?” asked Harrison.

  “Mars.”

  Before the others could say anything, Tatyana went on. “The Chinese have sworn that the ship is a resupply vessel: an Ark full of new materials and automated construction machines. Only, Donovan says differently.”

  “What’s going on, Captain?” Marshall said, his eyes narrowing. “What are they really up to?”

  “I don’t know,” lied Tatyana. “Perhaps they are telling the truth. But, in any event, I want us to have total control of the situation with the ruins. We need to have every available piece of information at our disposal before they arrive.”

  “They?” Marshall said. “Who’s they? Scientists? Astronauts? Our replacements? What?”

  “I don’t know,” Tatyana repeated, her face remaining unreadable. “But their ship will no doubt possess a highly sophisticated AI as our own does. If Remus, Romulus, and Braun all detected this alien signal with such ease, then their AI will be able to so as well. We must capitalize on our advantage. We are here. They are not...yet.”

  Everyone was quiet.

  “But, Captain,” spoke Harrison, his features set in a worried expression. “What if they aren’t our enemies? What if they really are just here to resupply us?”

  Unfaltering in her outward appearance, Tatyana Vodevski screamed within. Nothing would make her happier than to assure her crew that they had no need to fear this approaching dilemma. However, she had already made a liar out of herself once today and would rather spare her pride the pain of doing it again. Instead she avoided the question.