“It’s powered by the planet’s natural electromagnetism, which it uses, but doesn’t use up. You borrow the power and then hand it back, instantly renewable, no emissions, no waste. It focuses, shunts through and then releases. Its primary transmission matrix is graphene. Simon, there’s even an adapter assembly unit, to swap out our batteries for the Kepler, and that’s specific engineering, using proprietary specs no one else knows about.” He finally looked up. “Say good-bye to the oil industry.”
Simon Gist abruptly stood, unable to remain motionless. He turned to the window and stared out at the scrubland in all its magnificent muted tones of ochre, tan, and dusty green. He felt like running across that desert. “Conversion timeline?” he asked without facing Jack.
“A month, two, tops. We can do our own machining for most—no, probably all of it. That’s assuming our backers don’t pull out.”
“They won’t,” said Simon. “Not now.”
“Simon, if our rivals all have something like this …”
“Then we’re in a race and we’d better get moving.”
Mary Lamp said, “This needs thinking through. Simon, why do I feel like the ground’s about to open up in front of us?”
He faced her with a tentative smile. “Because it is, Mary. Not just for us. For civilization. For humanity. Dominoes are going to tumble. We need to position ourselves to avoid most of that fall-out. Our backers need to understand where it’s safe to put their money, and we’re it.”
She stood. “I’ll start making the calls.”
“Jack, how soon for a prototype?”
“Give me a week.”
“That fast?”
“The file’s full of work-arounds, using what we already have. It’s damn-near assembly instructions for a model kit. The theory is touched on, but details are in appendices. It’s laid out as ‘build it first, worry about how it works later.’ I love it.”
“Assemble a team. When do you want to start? Is tomorrow morning too soon?”
“Excuse me, boss,” said Jack, “but we’re starting tonight.”
Simon felt his eyes well up. He stared at them both. “This morning I woke up thinking we were dead in the water. That all my ambitions, my dreams, were turning into ashes in front of my eyes.” He laughed and waved a hand, suddenly embarrassed. “Go on, you too. I’ve always been too sentimental.”
“Maybe,” said Mary. “And maybe that’s why we’re all here, working for you, believing in you.”
Mercifully, both then hastened out of the room, to give Simon time for a good old-fashioned cry.
CHAPTER NINE
“Exaltation is ephemeral. Any philosophy suggesting that such an experiential state is both natural and sustainable has a serious disconnect with reality and human nature. Every high comes with a crash.”
SAMANTHA AUGUST
“So it was kinda hard to miss,” said Joey Sink, unable to keep the mocking smile from his lips as he stared at the webcam’s steady green LED, “mainstream media going wild, stirring up a frenzy of fear and paranoia. God helps us all, the aliens are poised to land, in giant fleets, mech-warriors trooping out, blasters cocked. Hey, bro, it’s a call to arms all right. Resist! Refuse! We won’t be slaves to nobody!” He paused, and then sat back, only to sit forward again. “Oops, still here. Got to stop doing that, don’t I? Oh I know, you all make fun of it, ole Joey showing only his forehead. It’s just I get animated, right?”
He tapped his headphones. “Got Nonny Mouse from JPL or maybe it’s NASA on the line, the one who’s been keeping us informed of the fact that the country’s best scientists are still uninformed. It’s confirmed: they can’t find any UFOs in orbit. But they have to be there. Unless they’ve already landed and who knows, maybe your neighbor only looks like your neighbor.”
Nonny Mouse cut in with a muted strangled sound, and then a very male voice said, “Hold on, Joey, that kind of paranoia we don’t need, especially from you.”
“Hey, just following the headlines, boyo.”
“Well, don’t. That joke of yours about us being uninformed. Funny, but not quite right.”
“Really?” Joey asked. “Do tell.”
“The forcefields and shutting down all violence, it’s all being powered by the Earth’s own magnetosphere.”
“You mean the thing that keeps away all the nasty UV from the sun?”
“More or less. How technical do you want me to be here?”
“It’s that protective thing, that field—I’ve seen graphics, how it absorbs the radiation and energy from solar storms. Comes from the planet’s core being, uh, molten metal. Mars doesn’t have one, because its core has gone cold, maybe even solid. Will that do?”
“It’s your show, Joey. But you’ve described it well enough, I suppose. In any case, the aliens are able to somehow manipulate the field on both the micro and macro scale, but the real kicker is the fact that they’re doing it everywhere, specific to instances, meaning they are intervening in real-time, and that real-time is virtually instant.”
Nodding, Joey said. “I’ve heard about this. Shooting someone point-blank—accidentally so far, not deliberately. At least, as far as I know. But the bullet never touches the target—no matter how close it is.”
“We don’t think it operates that way,” Nonny Mouse replied. “There are too many examples of hidden intentions, not involving guns, but kitchen knives, fists, even—for example: an embrace that begins friendly and then turns nasty. The attacker is simply thrown away from the intended victim. You have to understand, electromagnetism permeates everything. Our brains work on electric impulses, right? Now, imagine a sensor system linked to a supercomputer that can read those electric signals as they fire, like a super-fast ticker tape. Read, interpret, react, all fast enough to prevent.”
“Wow,” said Joey. “That’s … god-like.”
“It can only work with a quantum component, Joey. That’s what’s got us all so excited. We’re seeing a quantum interface based on contingency, operating out of normal time constraints, meaning entangled. So, our guess is, there really is an alien supercomputer out there. And we can’t find it because it’s sitting in a parallel universe, maybe even in a nil state.”
“A what state? You’re losing me here.”
“Schrodinger’s cat, Joey. The supercomputer is inside the box. Hiding in that liminal state of either/or, here/not-here, yes/no.”
“So open the box!”
“We can’t. That’s the whole point. The nil state can only exist so long as we’re not knowing.”
“Oh man. But wait, if that’s the case, then how can the aliens stick a supercomputer inside a nil state? Don’t they have to be ‘not knowing,’ too?”
“Probably.”
“So? I don’t get it!”
“The only answer we can come up with is, they built the supercomputer and made it a true AI, a true Artificial Intelligence. Then they told the AI to think itself into the box.”
“And what? Plop! Gone?”
“Plop. I like that. Plop Theory. Yeah, we can use that. Thanks, Joey.”
“Hold on! If a supercomputer AI can think itself into that nil state, then we could, too, right? I mean, theoretically.”
Nonny Mouse laughed, and laughed some more. “Nice one, Joey. ‘Theoretically.’ Awesome.”
“What are you going on about? I asked a legitimate question.”
“Oh, thought you were making a pun. Right. Well, yes, we could, only we don’t know how. In fact, it may not be in the realm of Western, rational thinking, Cartesian thinking, I mean. Maybe esoteric philosophy, or religion. Meditation. Nirvana, you know?”
“The ETs are Buddhists?”
“What? No. I mean, who knows? Why, are the Buddhists building a supercomputer? Wasn’t there an Arthur C. Clarke story—or was it Asimov? You know, all the names of God, calculated.”
“We’re in lala-land now, bro. Let’s get back to where we started. So you guys think you’ve worked out how these fo
rcefields are powered. Same for the non-violence shtick. But you can’t figure out a way of shutting it all down, or pulling the plug or something.”
“No, of course not. It’s so far out of our league we might as well be amoebas.”
“So we’re stuck.”
“Oh, I wouldn’t put it that way. You can walk home now without fear of getting mugged. Is that so bad? Besides, big changes are coming. I haven’t even told you the latest—though it should be out on the feeds by now, coming in from the east.”
“From the east? What are you talking about?”
“You’re on Mountain time, right? Sun’s almost down? Head outside, Joey, and look for Venus. It should be in the southern sky.”
“Okay, I’ll do that. What should I be looking for with Venus?”
“You got that slightly wrong, Joey. You won’t be able to see anything on Venus. You won’t be able to see Venus at all.”
“What?”
“The planet’s disappeared.”
“No way. They stole the planet from us?”
“Nah. It’s still there. That’s been confirmed. Only it’s now in shade. We think a sun-blind’s been built, maybe out near the Lagrange point.”
“Okayyy,” said Joey. “So, what are they doing?”
“Cooling it, Joey. And that’s not all. There’s anomalous bodies coming in from out-system, lots of them. We’re thinking asteroids, frozen water, lots of frozen water.”
“Terraforming! But hold it, bro, why not Mars? I always thought Mars was the best choice.”
“Not really. Venus is a closer sister, Joey, in terms of mass and even orbit. Thing is, the energy expenditure to terraform Venus is huge. Only, if that’s not a limiting factor, well, Venus over Mars every time.”
“What do you think about this, then?” Joey asked. There was sweat dribbling down his brow. His chest ached. It was all too much. “Are they moving into the neighborhood or something?”
“I hope not! I mean, it’d be nice to believe that they’ll respect our sovereign claim to our native solar system. But then, who knows? It’s not like we planted a flag there … or maybe we did. Those Russian landers … well, the thing is, we can only speculate.”
“And isn’t that the part that sucks?” Joey said, recovering. “It’s all out of our hands—all of it!”
“Yeah. But strangely enough, I’m not scared. Are you?”
Joey hesitated, and then said, “I don’t know. Haven’t decided yet. There’s plenty of fear going on right now.”
“Achieving what, exactly?”
“I heard tranquilizer sales are through the roof.”
“Whatever, Joey. Me, I’m going to sit back and enjoy the ride.”
“Not joining the Freedom Marches, then? Well, me neither. Talk to ya later, Nonny Mouse.” He cut the connection and grinned again at the camera. “That’s what I was opening this session with. Was going to talk about the Freedom Marches. A waste of time. Pointless. Silly, in fact. So we lost our freedom to kill and destroy—that’s kinda existed all along. We call them laws. You can’t kill your neighbor or anyone else, or you’ll go to jail. As for nations going to war, which is like sanctifying killing on a bigger scale, well, I’m not missing an end to that shit. I mean, I served three tours in Afghanistan, right? Been there, don’t wanna do that ever again. Good riddance is what I say on that stuff.
“And the destroying bit, all those rainforests going up in smoke and all that. The orangutans with nowhere to live. Even those gold prospectors up in the Yukon—you’re poisoning the rivers, man! What were you thinking? Well, time to find another line of work, bros. Gates closed and padlocked, all shut down.
“So sure, march about that. That lost freedom to dredge beautiful rivers and cut down trees. But I don’t think those marches will do anything. Face it, it’s been a while since marches did anything, even before the aliens arrived. And here’s the real kicker. For years now mainstream media’s been deliberately under-reporting on protest marches, at least in the West and especially since you-know-who became President. In fact, nine times out of ten they just ignore them, as if they never happened at all. So now they’re getting all frothy and calling on people to get out into the streets with banners and stuff? That, my friends, is a joke.
“A joke. And you can take that to the sink and dump it.”
A muted click in his ear told him one of his regulars was coming through. He read the tag and smiled. “And now here’s King Con. Hey bud, how’s it going? And remember, no profanity.”
“Forget Venus, man! Deimos just lit up like a spaceship—attitude thrusters firing all over its surface—and it’s moved down behind Phobos and is slowly catching up to it!”
“What? Deimos? Phobos?”
“The two moons of Mars! They’re gonna go crunch, buddy! Only slowly, like. No mess, no explosion, just grinding together. Mars is about to get one bigger moon!”
“But, what for?”
“Planets need moons, bud! Tidal forces! Get the tectonics moving, right? Only, that core’s going to need heating up, but I figure they’ve got that sussed, too. Don’t you get it, Joey? They’re giving us two new planets to live on!”
“Maybe. Maybe,” said Joey. “Oh man, this is too much. My head’s spinning. Wait! Venus doesn’t even have a moon!”
“Not yet it don’t, hah! But guaranteed, it will!”
“Look, I’m no astronomer, but you can’t just wing big rocks around the solar system like so many billiard balls, can you? I mean, isn’t it all finely balanced? Everything sits where it is because of everything else, isn’t that right?”
“Yeah, that’s kind of true, Joey. Will Venus getting a big ole moon affect Earth’s rotation dynamics? I hope not! But they must’ve worked that all out. All within acceptable parameters or something.”
“I hope you’re right, King Con.”
“Anyway, there’s over a hundred big asteroids and comets and shit on the move out there, Joey, all heading inward. Toward Venus and Mars. And closer to home, our own moon’s acquired a ring—it’s faint, you can barely make it out with binoculars, but it’s there. Dust, they figure. Something’s being built on the Moon? Maybe. It’s UFO mayhem out there.”
“Whoah! UFOs? What’s that about UFOs?”
“Speeding out from the Moon, right? There’s pics all over the net, Joey. Not from NASA, of course. It’s squawk from NASA, as usual.”
“Are these the aliens then?”
“Well, who knows? I mean, most of ’em look like they’re bugging out, to be honest. Besides, we’re talking Unidentified Flying Objects. Could be asteroids or meteors or flocks of geese.”
“Flocks of geese on the Moon?”
“No! In our skies! You know, those shots of the Moon with something flying across the face of it, right? A UFO could be anything, is what I’m saying.”
“So you’ve got asteroids and meteors flying out from the Moon.”
“Yeah. Weird, huh? Spooky weird.”
“Oh man, I’ve got a headache.”
“Gotta go, Joey. Gotta go on a march.”
“You? No way!”
King Con laughed. “Made up a big banner, me and a buddy of mine. Know what it says? It says RELAX! Hah hah!”
The air was bad this morning in Beijing. What was the statistic? At these levels, every man, woman, and child out in the city was breathing the equivalent of smoking two packs of cigarettes a day? That seemed to be a lot of cigarettes for Liu Zhou’s four-year-old daughter to be smoking. Of course, most of the high commissioners and officials in the government lived in airy enclaves well outside the city’s sprawling limits. Liu Zhou had ambitions of joining them soon, of getting his family out of the city. He wondered if, alas, such dreams were dead.
The gym buried deep in the government complex had been emptied of other officials. Even the staff had been led away. China’s Party Leader was not one to alter his exercise session no matter how terrible the crisis, and given the present circumstances, it was probably
a wise response, as the disasters were mounting daily.
There was talk of the United States reneging on its debts. The rumor alone had the yuan tumbling in value. But such matters were not in Liu Zhou’s remit, thankfully. He was not one for diplomatic niceties, and as the Leader’s personal Science Advisor, decorum was less important than the succinct presentation of facts, no matter how unpalatable they might prove to be.
The security teams were the first to arrive, ignoring him as they swept the room and then took station at the two sets of doors. A few moments later the Leader arrived, dressed in Adidas sweat-pants, sneakers, and a sleeveless Chicago Bulls t-shirt. Clearly, such indulgences would never be seen by the people. This gym was located at the heart of the Party Central Command Center, shielded from all prying eyes.
Xin Pang seated himself on a stationary bicycle and began pedaling.
He gestured Liu Zhou closer. “Begin,” he said.
“Leader,” Liu Zhou said, bowing briefly, before continuing. “The old lunar sites are being ignored for the most part, although not in every instance. It does suggest, however, that the previous tenants have indeed departed.”
“Fled?”
“Perhaps, Leader. The new presence appears to be mechanistic. The construction at Site 71 is already powered and, we believe, producing an oxygenated atmosphere.”
Xin Pang was pedaling harder now. “For nothing but machines? That makes no sense.”
“No, Leader, it does not. The atmosphere generation is, we believe, for us.”
China National Space Administration’s long-term plans for Luna involved an extensive national presence, with at least three major, interconnected settlement domes. The first assembly modules were already well past the blueprint stage. The challenge, as ever, was getting them off the surface of Earth. Now, it seemed, such plans were in complete disarray.
“You are certain,” the Leader said, now breathing hard, “that the Americans are not behind this?”
“As certain as you are,” Liu Zhou replied.
At the faint challenge, Xin Pang smiled slightly. “Point taken. True, Intelligence Services assures me. Indeed, the Americans continue to repress general knowledge of alien lunar mining, despite pictorial evidence to the contrary.” He shook his head. “The extraordinary capacity of the American people to humbly acquiesce when invited to ignore irrefutable evidence continues to astonish me.”
Rejoice, a Knife to the Heart Page 11