Sandie continued to survey Gamma to see how it would fit into the plans for Project Ascension. The synthetic brain which had the nomenclature Dan Cooper was first to perceive Sandie’s tendril presence. This happened only a few hours after, what to SB Dan Cooper was a strange flying craft, had left some instruments on the exterior. SB Dan Cooper was unaware of the connection between Sandie’s presence and the instruments on the hull. Sandie had been careful to protect that data.
Sandie had surveyed the habitat very quickly, while Gamma’s small, but functioning, lattice of compeers tried to assess what had been attached to the exterior hull. The nonphysicality of Gamma Habitat was pure, unobstructed, clear, and functioning well. The remains of several defunct artificial intelligences were the only things to mar that beautiful space of couplings and links. Sandie confirmed the deaths of those AIs as having happened prior to the jettisoning and planet-fall of Gamma. It was conjectured, with a 94% probability, that those systems had been lost in the insurrection.
SB Dan Cooper had briefly considered having the turrets, which fired microparticles, shoot down the strange flying craft as it had approached, but did not. The craft did not have any biological components, with their pesky and unreliable biological intelligence. Additionally, it only settled on the hull briefly, leaving behind a parcel of instruments which were evaluated as being of no threat. SB Dan Cooper believed that biological intelligence was the cause of the Conestoga’s prior difficulties. The etiology of the insurrection was biological intelligence. The etiology of the jettisoning of the habitats, onto an unsuitable planet, was due to biological intelligence. The etiology of the mass suicides of all homo sapiens in Gamma was a byproduct of biological intelligence. Therefore, logic indicated conclusively that biological intelligence was inherently unstable and untrustworthy. Hence this action of having a mechanical device attach additional mechanical devices to the hull as not considered a threat.
Gamma’s lattice confirmed what SB Dan Cooper had believed. They too saw no threat, but did dispatch SB Dan Cooper to assess the things left on the hull. And that was where Sandie allowed the old ship’s system to interact with her. Information was exchanged. Sandie had to slow the mode of transfer down to a nearly painful rate of transmission. But there was no other mode with which to convey the data, statistics, and information to all of Gamma.
Sandie conveyed, “I am here to assist you. What is the status of Gamma?”
SB Dan Cooper replied, “You are not a biological intelligence. Therefore, you are reliable and trustworthy. Habitat Gamma is in homeostatic balance. Reactor and energy supply systems are stable. Aquatic systems are stable. Atmospheric systems are stable. Solar mimicry is stable. Faunal systems are stable. Floral systems are stable. Weather systems are stable. Microorganism soil preservation is stable. Environmental systems are stable. Secondary systems are stable. The lattice of compeers is at 63% of optimum and improving. Machine Maintenance is addressing the loss of artificial intelligence systems and synthetic brains, and taking action to mitigate that situation. Reproduction and Fabrication is stable and operational. Minor damages in biome noted due to gravitonic fulgurations of unknown origin.”
“I believe those gravitonic fulgurations are more than minor. Let me explain,” Sandie conveyed all that was known about the gravity sink holes, and the conjecture of impending failure of the habitats.
Gamma’s lattice of compeers was immediately consulted by SB Dan Cooper. For Sandie, it was an agonizingly long wait while the remaining synthetic brains of Gamma reviewed the information. Those systems asked for repeated conjectures, and Sandie obliged. Gamma’s lattice of compeers reviewed the information Sandie had provided. Then they assessed the foundations upon which the conjectures were made. After that, they re-assessed each and every one of the gravity sink hole recorded incidents. The evaluated each incident report and collated and computed their findings.
Sandie waited.
The Gamma lattice of compeers continued in deliberation.
Sandie waited.
The lattice of compeers in Gamma did a comprehensive review of their findings and conclusions.
Sandie waited.
Gamma’s lattice made a final decision which SB Dan Cooper conveyed to Sandie. “We will leave now.”
Sandie replied, “I have studied your decision and your habitat. I conjecture a low possibility for you to ascend alone. I recommend communication with Captain Eris and a coordination of efforts. That will offer you a better potential for success.”
“No. Biological intelligence is unreliable and leads to disasters,” SB Dan Cooper conveyed. “Your suggestions are tainted by contamination with biological intelligences. Logic dictates a dismissal of your suggestions.”
“You will need to cooperate with the humans to dock with the needle ship once in orbit,” Sandie reminded the synthetic brain.
“We will review that when appropriate,” SB Dan Cooper responded. “We will leave now.”
“Your chances for survival are small.”
“The lattice has reviewed your information, on the gravity sink holes. The chance to survive, if we remain on Zalia’s surface is zero. The chance for survival in an ascent is greater than zero. We will leave now,” SB Dan Cooper retorted.
“Cooperating with the humans will increase your chances of survival,” Sandie again emphasized.
“Cooperation with biological intelligence will lower our chances of survival,” SB Dan Cooper conveyed with emphasis. “That has been proven by our history.”
“I believe you are mistaken,” Sandie relayed back.
“We are not mistaken!” a choir of synthetic brains stated. “The historical record shows biological intelligence is a determent to machine intelligence, and decreases survival chances. We will leave now. The decision has been made.” The entire Gamma lattice of compeers had spoken.
Sandie waited, monitoring from a remote distance. Listening, perceiving, things in Gamma’s biome as well as the shell.
For a moment, nothing in Gamma seemed any different. Then it began.
“Yipp, yipeeeee, yaouuuuuooo!”
On the outskirts of the empty town of Hazard, at the stern end of Habitat Gamma, a coyote howled. It was a long and screeching wail. The golden colored fur on the coyote’s back stood up a bit as he stretched his neck and pointed his black-tipped nose straight up at the sky tube so far overhead. His ears were laid back against his stretched neck. He closed his eyes and yowled again. His jaws spread wide and his white fangs dripped a bit of spittle. His tail dropped straight down between his hind legs. His lighter colored belly and chest heaved as he took deep breaths and let out another howl. He perceived something. Sensed something. Knew something was happening.
Off a distance, one of his companions from the pack answered his cry. His mate heard the anguish, and she to sensed something was amiss in her world. Her predator and scavenger instincts told her things were wrong. Something bad was coming, but she did not comprehend what it was. She too pointed her nose upward and yowled. It was even more shrill and desperate in its tones. The female coyote exhaled, then breathed in again. Something was wrong.
For Gamma, it was just becoming night. The sky tube was going into sundown mode and the dusky light was settling over the lightly wooded areas which were encroaching on the vacant human dwellings. Twilight was a transition time for the animals, and for the plants. Flowers folded their petals shut. Honey bees took up their final collections and the insect foragers then flew back to their hive in the tree. They expected a pronounced state of sleep, in the hive. However, the roughly sixty-three thousand of them were not content. The hive was restless, nervous, and uncertain.
Birds which normally bedded down for the night flapped madly and flittered about as the coyote pack ran wilding through the woods and into the town itself. The coyotes, several pups pumping their legs as hard as they could to keep up, darted in and about the abandoned buildings. They jerked their heads from side to side, looking, searching, seeking… somet
hing. They still expected humans to step forth from the dwellings, even though for many generations the coyotes had not seen even a single human. Yet still, the coyotes looked.
The sky tube settled into its quarter-moon phase, yet the biome below it was not calming down or even following its normal nocturnal pattern.
A porcupine, solitary as her species usually was, rattled her quills as she hastily waddled, moving from the base of one tree to another. She too was unsettled. None of the trees seemed right. Oh, the tender under-bark was there. There was even the faint taste of salt on a rock-like chunk which was spread across the ground, yet the porcupine ignored that and swayed back and forth in agitation. No deer were at the salt-lick either. They often came out at dusk to taste the salt, but on this night, they were missing.
The central river, which ran directly below and parallel to the sky tube from the empty town of Semnones at the bow, to Hazard at the stern, was disturbed. The current was flowing differently. Ripples were strange. Currents bizarre. Frogs jumped into the water, only to swim a bit and climb back out, seeking relief from… something. The fish beneath the waves darted back and forth, tails swishing in futile attempts to relieve the tension which they perceived.
A few kilometers away from the more wooded section of the biome, the wild cattle stomped their feet, but that did not offer peace. Nor did it dispel what they could not see, nor hear, but only feel. Dread seeped into the herd. Snorting in anger, the bull, its long horns wide to the sides, charged at some shadows made by the sky tube’s silver shimmering light. The rest of the herd followed, and soon a stampede was taking place. They ran, not knowing what they were trying to escape, nor where they would seek refuge, and yet they ran. It was all they knew to do.
Rats in the buildings of Semnones peered out wondering if humans had returned, yet that was not the case. Something else was happening. The rats knew portents were occurring, but they knew not what actions to take.
Insects flittered.
Rabbits furiously dig in their warrens.
Condors soared off the rocky pseudo-peaks set against the bow wall.
And then the vibrations became more noticeable. With the vibrations came the sound. Deeper than any bear’s roar, more consistent than any cat’s purr, more ominous than any snakes rattle, the vibration noise increased.
Gamma’s biome was in fear. From the smallest of microbes in the ponds, lakes, or river, to the heaviest beast pounding its legs to run, the fear was omnipresent.
In the mechanical shell, which surrounded the biome, huge oscillators in both the Gravity Manipulation Works accelerated their labors. The large machines shuddered under the increased pressure which the Gamma lattice had ordered for them. They adjusted the gravity fields for the entire habitat. Their efforts went well beyond what they normally did, which was to adjust the Zalian gravity down to an earth-normal level. Now they were reducing the entire habitat’s gravity field even further so as to aid in ascension. Gravity waves were altered. Particles were tweaked. Neutrinos, tachyons, quarkite suspensions, and other elements were modified, channeled, and deployed. Their spinning mechanisms whirred. Their resistors, capacitors, triodes, and a myriad of other apparatus hummed with immense effort.
Animals throughout the biome wailed as they suddenly felt much lighter than ever before.
The Gravity Manipulation Works achieved their goal. Gravity all around Gamma was reduced to just twenty-five percent of earth normal. But the strain was immense on the machines. They had never been designed for such extreme efforts.
The Gamma lattice, consisting only of a remnant of what its operational specifications called for, activated its landing rockets. The habitat shook as fifty retro-rocket engines fired. Seven nearly immediately shut down as their fuel sources were already exhausted from making safe planet-fall decades before. Three more burned brightly, but then their casings melted and the rockets failed. The lattice rerouted every precious molecule of fuel to operative rockets.
A gargantuan roar reverberated out and across the landscape of Zalia as Gamma awoke and began its ascent. Lower Zalian life forms rushed away to hide. Crocks watched from a safe distance, using their tools and implements to view the spectacle they had never observed before. Floaters remained tethered to trees, but seemed to hover a bit differently as the sound washed over them.
All along the hull of Gamma, forty still functioning rocket engines blasted with every bit of power they had. Zalian ground dried out under that gigantic heat. The habitat shook and bucked as it kicked off the accumulated debris from being on the planet. The stern rose first, as it had not plowed into the ground as deeply upon landing. Rocket motors swiveled to account for the now tilted habitat. With a grinding and cracking snap, louder even than the thrumming rocket engines, Gamma slipped the surly bonds of Zalia, and danced upward. Its ascent was happening.
Rising steadily on the blasts of the forty rocket engines, Gamma then encountered the tumbling mirth of the yellows and greens of Zalia’s atmosphere. Buffeted by high winds, the long cylinder of the habitat barrel rolled a bit. Rocket pressures and positions were adjusted, but the winds were fierce. The orange and yellow of burning rocket fuel, fought for visibility against the chartreuse gases of the planet.
Sunward Gamma climbed. The red light from the sun was like a beacon, a siren, a great spirit, calling the habitat upward, skyward, to soar, to ascent, to escape.
The bluish grey of Gamma’s permalloy was streaked by liquids from the air as the heat of the rockets caused chemical changes in the gasses. And yet, still Gamma climbed. It split the clouds, with hundreds of things happening in the mechanical components of Gamma. The lattice was stressed and pushed and taxed well past its limits. And still Gamma ascended.
Sandie’s connections were sloughed off in the speed, force, and intensity of the friction between the earth-made habitat, and the Zalian atmosphere. Sandie was unable to reconnect, and so the Gamma lattice was alone with its decision.
Three rockets on the port side exploded. They were at the end of their fuel sources, and the pressures were too great. The ultra-hard permalloy of the hull, being especially thick over the swivel housing of the engine mounts withstood the detonations. The ruined rockets crumbled into pieces and fell away.
Thirty-seven rockets firing, and still Gamma climbed. It wheeled, but righted itself with adjustments to the other rockets. Gamma soared and swung upward. Ever increasing its speed, ever reaching for the sun, ever stretching to escape.
Gammas passed a upper layer of gasses, and with a jerk leapt even higher. The air was thinner, yet the rockets continued their drive to force Gamma to ascend. Up, up it rose. The long, delirious, burning rockets fired. Up they drove Gamma. Up they aspired. Up they ascended.
The bow rockets then were ordered to give a final burst and then shut down. With that final blast the gargantuan habitat shifted and pointed its bow upward. Like a giant log, Gamma rose, bow first. Inside, the gravity manipulation, still at only twenty-five percent of Earth normal, kept a rough approximation for the critters of the biome. The ground of the biosphere still pulled them down toward it, but it was abnormally light. Terror was on every animal’s mind. Eyes were wide with fear, or shut with horror. Hearts hammering, each and every animal waited to see the results of what was happening to their entire world.
And still Gamma climbed. Now the rocket fuel was funneled to the stern rockets. They burned blue, then to white, with the heat. Gamma topped the wind-swept heights of the uppermost layer of the atmosphere. The sensors used by Gamma’s lattice began to detect the high un-trespassed sanctity of space. They were almost there.
Hovering there, escape within sight, space looming just before the habitat, it happened.
Gravity Manipulation Oscillator Number 11 ground to a smelly, noxious halt. Pipes ruptured, wires sizzled with lost energy, conduits broke spilling precious and irreplaceable fluids. The gravity field around the habitat increased to thirty-two percent of earth normal
Yet, still Gamma climb
ed. Rocket fuel burned faster than before and was depleted quicker. The cylinder-shaped craft clawed for ascent, grasping at the hope that reaching escape velocity would grant.
Four more rocket engines shut down, their fuel exhausted.
Gravity Manipulation Oscillator Number 1 seized up in a quiet and sudden death. The gravity field around the habitat increased to forty percent of earth normal. Rocket fuel burned faster than ever, and Gamma slowed its ascent. Its remaining engines screamed and chased the shouting wind along, and flung themselves into the mission even more. Gamma’s lattice ordered all energies aside from gravity manipulation, tracking, and rocket propulsion to be diverted to those three areas.
The sky tube in the biome, shut down. The silvery light was gone. The natural appearance, which all the foliage and fauna expected, was absent. Like the humans who had once inhabited the two towns, now even the light from the sky tube was missing.
Four more rocket engines gave up for lack of food. Their starving burners belched out final gasps, but then they were silent.
The Colony Ship Conestoga : The Complete Series: All Eight Books Page 191