The Gods We Make

by Eric Johannsen

  The two searched branching passageways that were round, organic, yet somehow mathematical to Chad’s mind. The tunnels seemed to morph in subtle ways as they moved through. The astronauts discovered what might have been a crew quarters, with three oblong, hollowed-out areas in a row suggesting sleeping space. “It looks organic, like a pea pod, doesn’t it?” Chad asked. He lay down where one of the peas might go. “The pattern on the pod’s ceiling looks like a fractal sketched in faintly glowing plasma.” Kind of claustrophobic in here. He reached up and touched the pattern. The surface became transparent, revealing brilliant stars. Now that was strange! He grabbed an instrument from his belt and probed the material.

  “How did you do that?” Ian asked.

  “I don’t know. I touched it, and it just turned clear.” Chad checked another instrument. “Want to know what else is strange? When we came on board, there was a thin, pure nitrogen atmosphere. Now I’m reading seventy percent nitrogen and thirty percent oxygen at six point seven five PSI. That’s almost exactly the partial pressure of oxygen inside our suits, without the danger of a pure oxygen environment.”

  “You’re saying we can take our helmets off?”

  “Well, we’d be able to breathe, but let’s leave them on for now. There could be alien microbes or some contaminant my field instruments can’t pick up.”

  The two continued their exploration and came across what might have been a scientific laboratory. The room was larger than the pea pod room, a rounded cuboid eight meters on a side and three meters tall. The walls were etched with geometric patterns. Unlike other surfaces, the patterns covering this room were created by a fine, golden material that reflected an ambient, white light with no apparent source. Images of Jupiter, measured in myriad ways, were holographically projected into the space. They flitted about the room investigating the various images.

  “Look at this!” Ian said. “Earth.”

  Chad drifted over and reached for the projection, carefully and with great curiosity. I wonder if there’s some way to zoom in. The surface near his hand magnified. His fingers happened to hover over New York City at the time. The projection enlarged further. Whoa! I can see people moving! The image stopped zooming. The two watched in amazement as ant-size, virtual New Yorkers wandered tiny holographic streets.

  “It’s like Earth in a snow globe,” Ian said.

  I wonder… Chad fiddled until he figured out how to pan the display to Times Square. “Here, check it out. The holo-ads for musicals. Those are currently playing!” He panned again. “There’s the time, on that ticker. Assuming it’s the same date, the time offset is about right. I think we’re looking at live imagery of Earth, delayed only by the time it takes for light to travel from there to Jupiter. One heck of a snow globe, wouldn’t you say?”

  “They’re watching us?”

  “I’m not sure yet there is a ‘they.’ At least, not anymore. There’s no sign of life on board, or that anything has been here recently.” Chad’s mind raced. If they’re not here, what happened to them? Did they die here? Did they abandon their ship? If so, do they intend to return?

  The two moved systematically through the ship, eventually arriving at the rear. There, they discovered bulky structures that were more mechanical and geometric than organic. “Do you suppose this is the engine room?” Ian asked.

  “To the extent they need engines like we do, I suppose. Maybe. I need time to study all this here and see if I can make sense of it.” Chad’s voice was distant, and his mind was focused on the marvels laid out before him.

  “We have sixteen hours until we can make contact again. Is there anything I can do to help?”

  Chad did not answer. His mind was completely devoted to the alien technology.

  #

  “Commander Long,” the Chinese navigator said, “the structure will come into view again in three minutes.”

  The Commander looked up from his meditation. “Excellent. What’s the latest on the object orbiting Europa?”

  “Optical imaging shows a ship. It’s still grainy, but it matches the general shape of an American Mars resupply ship, perhaps a bit larger,” the navigator said. “It’s orbiting every one hundred twenty-three minutes. That places it’s altitude at eighty kilometers above the surface.”

  “How long until our closest approach to Europa?” the Commander asked.

  “Twenty-four hours, twenty minutes.”

  The Commander stared at the viewscreen, at the edge of Jupiter, from which the alien structure would soon emerge. The crew waited in silence.

  “There! There it is,” the navigator said. He zoomed the optical imaging on the object.

  Wong An drifted closer to the screen. “It’s beautiful. The lines are smooth and flowing. Except there.” She pointed at a small bump protruding from one side. “It seems, the Americans may have arrived first.”

  “Raise them on coms,” the Commander said. “Try the ship orbiting Europa first. Let’s see what we can do with this situation.”

  The navigator tuned the radio to an S band channel commonly used by NASA spacecraft. “American craft orbiting Europa, this is the Chinese vessel Shengli. Respond.”

  After a moment, the radio crackled. “This is Commander Dylan Lockwood of the Jupiter Express. What can I do for you?”

  “Commander Lockwood. This is Commander Long. May I extend greetings on behalf of the People’s Republic of China?” His words dripped with sarcasm.

  “Thank you, Commander.” Dylan put on his best Texas charm. “It’s mighty nice to have company so far from home. May I inquire as to your mission?”

  “My mission?” Commander Long said, swallowing back anger. “My mission is to complete the task assigned to our first Jupiter-bound vessel. I believe you are familiar with the fate of that ship.”

  “Commander, I want to express my deep sorrow that your first ship was lost.”

  “Sorrow?” Commander Long was incredulous. “As I understand the facts, you were in a position to provide assistance. The Chinese government formally petitioned your president for help. His response? He claimed you were out of position and unable to provide aid. We both know the truth of the matter.”

  “Like I said, Commander. I’m truly sorry for your loss. My orders were to proceed with all haste to Jupiter. I’m sure you can appreciate-”

  “Commander Lockwood, let’s not waste each other’s time. We’re both here because of the alien structure orbiting Jupiter. Unless my information is incorrect, I am in command of the only military craft. I therefore order you to retreat from the structure.”

  “Commander,” the Chinese navigator said quietly in Chinese, “the American ship is about to drift below the horizon of Europa. We will lose communications.”

  Commander Long nodded. “You will shortly be out of contact for one hour. At the end of that time, I shall await your response. I hope we can resolve this situation peacefully, but I will not hesitate to use force.”

  #

  “How did they get here so fast?” Musa asked. “I thought we had a few weeks until they could catch us.”

  “I suppose,” Dylan said, “they might have fitted their ship with a fusion reactor. From what little we know, they’re probably a whole lot lighter than a fission reactor with the same output.” He rapped his knuckles on the small dining table.

  Musa scratched his chin. “It’s been under a year since they created fusion technology. How could they have a reactor in a spacecraft already?”

  “Nano-fabrication,” Dylan said. “I was talking with Dr. Tanner about the latest engineering developments during our layover on Mars Station. He had a whole heap to say about it, and then some. There have been serious advances in molecular assembly in the last few years. He said his company started using assemblers a few months ago that can print the kind of complex components you might need for a reactor in no time at all. Until recently, it would have taken a year, year and a half to work out a strategy to shrink brand-new technology. More so for something l
ike a fusion reactor with its complex components. That is, if you task humans with the work. Chad says industry has been using AI for a year or two that can create millions of adaptation strategies, much faster than a human could. The AI runs each approach through a simulator on its own. It’s similar to how AI assistants learn to craft a pleasant personality. The machines can modify a working design into a version that’s smaller, bigger, stronger, or faster in record time. The latest generation of AI can even step back and analyze itself, then update its own code before starting the next round of analysis.”

  “Doesn’t that terrify you, Dylan? At least, a little? It’s one thing for a computer to crunch numbers faster than I ever could. I’m still in charge. But a computer that can improve existing designs? And improve itself? After a while, the improved version sets to work on another round of self-improvement. Before long, you’re bound to have one smart machine on your hands.”

  “The machines only improve themselves toward the narrow goal of generating designs and simulating the result,” Dylan said with the dismissive tone of a man ready to change the topic.

  “What if the narrowness of the goals is one of the things they improve, from their point of view?” Musa seemed enthralled with the possibilities.

  “You’re right. That’s something we best be careful of. But we must return to the problem at hand.” Here we go again. Me in a frail craft, the Chinese pointing missiles. His stomach felt like he ate three-day-old road kill.

  “You’re right, Dylan. Sorry.” Musa’s mind seemed to return to the present. His face grew rigid with defiance. “What are we going to do about the ultimatum?”

  “We sure as hell ain’t giving up.” One hour. Use the hour. Don’t get shot down again. “Is the Explorer back from behind Jupiter yet?”

  “Two minutes, thirty seconds to go,” Musa said.

  “Raise them as soon as they clear the Jovian atmosphere. We best let them know what’s happened.”

  After a moment, Ian’s voice crackled over coms, the transmission distorted by Jupiter’s deadly environment. “Check-in isn’t for another twelve minutes. Everything OK up there?”

  “I’m afraid not, Ian. We have company, and they claim to be armed. They gave us an ultimatum. Abandon the structure, or they’ll shoot us down. We just passed behind Europa. That gives us about an hour to reply.”

  “Do you think they’ll use force?”

  “I don’t know. Their Commander was pretty hostile, upset we didn’t rescue their first ship. It’s personal. His nephew was in command of it.”

  “We’d better plan for the worst,” Ian said.

  “Agreed, though I don’t see that we have many options if things turn aggressive.” Dylan’s eyes scanned the interior of the Jupiter Express. “You boys learn anything about the structure?”

  “It’s not a structure, Dylan,” Chad said. “It’s a ship. I’m almost certain it’s a ship.”

  “A ship? Can you fly it out of there?” Dylan was excited.

  “It’s advanced far beyond anything I ever envisioned. There’s nothing that looks even remotely like controls.”

  “What’s the game plan, sir?” Ian asked.

  “I don’t intend to surrender the, er, ship. And I sure as hell don’t intend to get shot down. I doubt they ever tested their weapons in an environment like this.” He stared out the forward viewport, taking in Jupiter’s majestic tans, oranges, and browns. The violent Great Red Spot seemed placid from space. “How far out do you suppose they can hit us with a weapon?”

  “That depends on the kind of weapons they carry,” Chad said. An energy weapon or kinetic weapon would be most efficient for them in terms of added mission weight, but they would have to be practically on top of you to score a hit since you know an attack is coming. I would bet on missiles with chemical propellant. An ion drive wouldn’t give missiles the acceleration or maneuverability needed.”

  “If it is missiles,” Dylan asked, “how close do they need to get?”

  “There’s no way to know. It all depends on how much propellant they carry. And whether the warhead is nuclear.”

  “Nuclear?” Ian asked. “You think they would use nukes up here?”

  “Given how important the mission is,” Dylan said, “I wouldn’t put it past them.”

  “We need intel on China’s space-capable missiles,” Chad said. “There are just too many variables for an accurate estimate based on first principles.”

  Dylan nodded. “We don’t have line of sight to Earth anymore. I you to relay a message for me.”

  #

  That smells invigorating. Sara sniffed in the aroma of freshly-brewed coffee. “Thank you, Thomas.”

  “My pleasure, Deputy Director,” the president’s butler replied.

  Dr. Okoye and Ms. Kido were seated on the red-and-white-striped sofa in the Oval Office.

  President Billmore stood by the coffee table, sipping from a mug clenched in both hands. “I hope y’all got a few hours’ sleep last night.”

  “No, sir,” Sara said. “Not a wink.”

  The others chuckled. From their bleary looks, she wasn’t the only one who stayed up all night anxiously awaiting the next report from Jupiter.

  “The crew has explored the structure, but they’re no closer to understanding it,” Dr. Okoye said.

  “Structure. Do we have to keep calling it that?” the president asked.

  Ms. Kido sampled a grape from a fruit plate Thomas had put out. “Do you have a better name?”

  “Quadriga,” Sara said.

  “Quadriga?” The president looked doubtful.

  “Quadriga,” Sara repeated. “A chariot drawn by four white horses. The ancient Romans believed their god Jupiter rode on a quadriga.”

  “Quadriga.” The president nodded. “I suppose that will do.”

  “Seriously?” Ms. Kido asked.

  The president gave her a brief look that conveyed the matter was decided.

  “I suppose it will do as a code word,” Ms. Kido said.

  A red alert flashed in Sara’s ocular implant. The caller-ID wasn’t displayed. She dismissed the alert with a squinting double-blink.

  Elena Teplova’s image appeared a fraction of a second later. “You have to take it.”

  Sara closed her eyes and thought out a reply. Can’t. I’m with the president.

  “Sara, I have Jupiter on the phone for you,” Elena said with wry satisfaction.

  Sara gasped aloud.

  “Is everything all right?” Abel asked.

  Sara nodded and, with a gesture, transferred the incoming message to one of the room’s holographic projectors. Dylan Lockwood’s torso materialized above the president’s coffee table.

  “Ms. Wells, this is Commander Lockwood. Wherever you are, just sit and listen. There’s no time to lose. The Chinese are about a day out from our position orbiting Europa and thirty hours from the alien structure. They threatened to use military force if we don’t abandon our mission. We’re sure as hell not surrendering, but we need help to even the odds. Dr. Tanner speculates, if they’re really armed, it will be chemical missiles. The thing is, we have no idea how much range those weapons would have. Send us what you have on their space-capable weapons. If you can come up with anything we can use to defend ourselves or evade them, that would be a godsend.”

  Dylan’s image, beamed from Jupiter forty-eight minutes ago, vanished.

  Sara glanced at the president. His nod conveyed permission to work the problem immediately. “Elena, pull everything we have on Chinese weapon systems that have been tested in space or could hypothetically work in space. Focus on missiles but don’t leave anything out. I want a team of analysts and AI working every angle. You’re in charge of that team. I want to know what weapons the Chinese craft could carry and the capabilities those weapons would have. Update me in ten minutes.”

  She hung up on Elena and dialed Guam Air Force Base. A technical sergeant answered. “This is NSA Deputy Director Sara Wells calling from t
he Oval Office. Get me General McAlester. Now.” Sara drummed her fingers on her knee. “Grant, it’s Sara. Do you still have SAR drones staged at the base? Good. I need a drone pack loaded with non-lethals. Yes, I’m sure. Get it on a fully fueled cargo jet in twenty minutes. I need that jet over the South China Sea. Plan for aerial refueling.”

  She transferred the audio to a speaker in the room in time to catch the general’s last words, “…without authorization, Sara.”

  She glanced at the president.

  “Do you know who this is, general?” President Billmore asked.

  “Yes, sir, Mr. President.”

  “Do it.”

  “Yes, sir, Mr. President!”

  Sara took the call off speaker. “I don’t know the final destination. Yes, I’ll tell you the moment I make up my mind.” She smiled and hung up.

  Sara narrowed her eyes, thought a moment, then placed another call. “This is Deputy Director Wells. I need your team to find every engineer involved with the Shenzhen Astromining’s spacecraft program. Locate someone we can compromise or turn.” She listened for a moment. “Twelve hours. No, I don’t mean find him in twelve hours. I mean extract the information we need in twelve hours. Yes, I know that’s impossible. Do it anyway. Update me in thirty minutes. Don’t make me do your job for you.”

  She hung up. All eyes were on her. The president nodded approval.

  #

  Commander Long watched a holographic recreation of Europa, generated from onboard imaging sensors, with meditative calm. The Chinese crew went about their business, careful not to disturb him. A speck appeared from behind the moon. The computer drew a luminous a circle around it and labeled the point Jupiter Express. The Commander’s eyes snapped to sharp focus. “Connect me with the American ship.”

  “This is Commander Lockwood,” Dylan’s voice replied.

  “Commander Long here. You had an hour to consider the gravity of your situation. I’m certain you understand your only move is to stand down.”

  “Now, commander,” Dylan said. “We both have our orders. Mine don’t include running home with my tail between my legs, but they do offer latitude to cooperate.”