Planets Falling

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Planets Falling Page 11

by James G. Scotson


  "What happened to me? That was not normal. I feel like my spine was yanked out." Verat fell out of his seat and splayed himself on the floor.

  Fromer jumped up and ran to the command compartment.

  "Fromer, you’re not supposed to enter until Melat gives the all clear," Grey exclaimed.

  "Mel has to be in distress. She needs help." Fromer pulled open the door. Green light blinded him. Melat was on the floor curled in a ball, hands clenched, and gasping; the needle was pulled out of her hand. Blood soaked her blue cotton shirt and dripped in a puddle on the floor. Fromer looked at the forward view screen. A large gas giant planet loomed ahead, streaked in violet and yellow. Fromer glanced at the navigation screen and reviewed the log. When Melat lost control, the ship's systems automatically located the planet and docked the vessel in a stable orbit around the giant.

  Fromer ordered the Raven's HM to shut down the quantum drives while he checked Melat's heart. Her bleeding had stopped. She was alive but absent - not quite unconscious but certainly unaware. Something deep within her mind was still traveling in the ship. Until they could reconnect the ship with her central nervous system, they were going to be stranded in deep space.

  Fromer stepped back into the passenger hold. "We have a problem." He explained that he had stabilized Melat's condition but that she was in two different places. "We have to figure out how to reconnect her."

  Grey coughed. Verat's annoying virus had invaded his chest. "Do we have any idea where we are?"

  Gorian was already on her tablet conversing with the Raven. "The ship says that we’re only about a thousand kilometers from the buoy network. This is charted space.” Relief flooded the compartment. "The bad news is that the Raven's ion drives are disconnected from the command. Whatever part of Mel that’s still in the circuits appears to have shut them down. The ship and I are trying to route around her."

  "Why would Melat do that?" Fen asked.

  Fromer responded. "The part of Mel that is still interfaced with the computer has no sense of self or purpose. She just happens to be floating aimlessly in those systems. She could have just as easily been in the plumbing circuits. Then we would not be able to flush the commode."

  Gorian turned to them. "There’s always a fix. We just need a little time."

  "Could we take the shuttle to the buoy?" Verat asked.

  Gorian tugged on her locks. "We could. But the shuttle’s not equipped to communicate with the network. The only option would be to wait for a ship to drop through. That could be days or years depending on our location. Even if a ship appeared, the pilot or computer would have to notice us. If we get really desperate, we should use the shuttle. But not right now."

  Rhodes, one of the security detail groaned. He had a thick mustache, sunken eyes, and a thick build. He looked at Gorian quizzically. "Why aren't we sitting by the buoy? Shouldn’t we be there if we were following it to Nine?"

  "In quantam mechanics, a thousand kilometers is close enough." She went back to tapping and swiping at her pad.

  "If we have time, might as well enjoy ourselves." Verat scratched his bum and walked into the cargo hold. The shuttle was clamped down, mountainous plastic containers hulked around it. "Whadda we have here?"

  Fromer jumped. He assumed that Verat was questioning the unmarked container with rifles, ammo, and some grenades.

  "This one is marked potables. Let's have a look." Verat pushed a button and the container opened.

  Fromer relaxed. Had anyone noticed his reaction?

  Verat pulled out a small box labeled chicken dinner. He pulled on a tab and dropped the lump on a plate. It slowly expanded to a sizable meal of a chicken slice, mashed potatoes, and some green stuff that looked nauron in origin. Steam began to rise from the meal. "I love compressed food." Verat began eating. Soon the others were following suit. Iggy slurped greenish slime from a tube, Fromer munched on a zenat version of beef, and the others picked at various versions of pot roast with vegetables.

  Chapter 25 – Biology Lesson

  Excerpt from book entitled "A History of the Terra Institute":

  Although there are likely many undiscovered sentient species in the galaxy, only four are recognized by the Institute. There are morphological and physiological differences among the species, of course. But surprisingly many similarities in form and function exist. Marquads' (link to: Marquad, Founding Family) Theorem states that sentient (self aware) beings must have a large central ganglion (link to: brain), opposable digits, upright posture, and forward-looking eyes. The ability to walk, manipulate the environment with hands, see with three dimensional vision, and to process all this information in a complex environment are the primary commonalities among the four species. Communication also is key, which can occur through sound (link to: humans, zenats), telepathy (link to: naurons) or physical gestures and coloration (link to: xyn). The Marquad Family was not denying that there are millions of intelligent species in the galaxy. But those emerging with the ability to ask "why", become self aware, and seek out new opportunities with technology require these very specific biological traits.

  Of course, culturally, the four known sentient species are very different. One of the most telling diffences is food preference. All sentients are omnivores, capable of eating varied diets of plant and animal matter. However, how food is perceived and valued is species specific. Humans have the most varied diets, typically preferring a mix of plant and animal matter in their meals. Obesity is common because food can be considered a psychological as well as physical source of nutrition. When naurons first came into contact with humans, food preference was a topic of much discussion. Narons, being semi-aquatic, prefer to consume marine food, largely of planktonic origin. Their meals are typically uniform. Lacking taste buds, they still puzzle over humanity's need for varied meals. Naurons do have a heightened sensitivity to simple sugars and enjoy eating candy. Zenats are capable of digesting plant matter, but prefer animal tissue. Like humans, they have a well developed sense of taste and enjoy different preparations. Zenats and humans have exchanged food for centuries, leading to exciting new options in cuisinary development. The xyn rarely eat. They have developed a form of photosynthetic structures (link to: xenochloroplasts) in their skin and are capable of synthesizing complex sugars from sunlight. To travel beyond their home world, they don "sunlight suits" that produce light of the necessary wavelength to nourish them. When other elements are needed, the xyn will consume various dietary items indigenous to their homeworld- typically a variety of roots and tubers. They have no taste for non-indigenous food.

  Chapter 26 – Stasis

  After the crewmates finished their meals, they sat back and waited for Gorian to provide them with news. The Raven wasn’t designed for prolonged occupancy- all on board, with the exception of Iggy- were beginning to fray. The nauron retired to a corner of the cargo hold, sat down, and occasionally sprayed his-her skin with a bottle of brine. When not spritzing, Iggy was so still that it was difficult to tell whether sheit was still respiring. Verat had produced a bottle of brandy and was rapidly losing coherence. Grey tried sleeping but was too warm and uncomfortable to succeed. Fromer remained in the command room tending to Melat, who was not responding but seemed stable.

  Ten hours passed; Gorian continually conversed with the Raven's HM and was looking worn. Grey occasionally brought her drink and food, but she rarely took the offer. The remainder of the crew including Fen was in some stage of unconciousness given that Verat had produced additional bottles of libation. Grey was characteristically disgusted with the general state of things. Gorian's vision was blurring when a soft beeping emanated from the control panel. "Oh no," she whispered.

  The screen announced that the starboard aft thruster fired for a millisecond. Whether it was caused by a slight power fluctuation or the movement of Melat's consciousness didn’t matter, what mattered was that the Raven's orbit had begun to decay. In about two hours, they’d enter the outer atmosphere of the giant ball of gas and burn to
cinders.

  Grey approached her with a tray of cookies. She whispered in his ear. "Grey, we have a problem."

  "Can we put everyone in the shuttle and abandon the vessel?" he responded quite audibly. Whispering was clearly unnecessary given the sauced condition of most of the crew, Iggy's dormancy in cargo, and Fromer's absence in command.

  "The shuttle's life support is limited. With all of us in there, we’d only last a couple of days at most."

  "What other options do we have?"

  She sighed. "Well, I haven’t been able to identify how to get Mel hooked back up safely. We could just try plugging her back in again and take our chances. But the risk of her pulling out her drip and disconnecting again is high. Until I identify what caused her to disconnect the first time, we risk having it happen again. And we may not be so lucky the second round. She could go into shock, have a heart attack, or simply go completely vegetable on us."

  Grey did not relish the options of burning in planetary entry or being torn apart in a drop. "Do we have a final option?"

  "Give me one more hour." Adrenalin reincarnated her.

  Fromer appeared from the command room; Grey announced the grim news to him. Fromer nodded his head and scratched his tuft of hair. "Gorian is in her element. She will solve the problem."

  Gorian was feeling less certain. The Raven's programming was very complex. Unlike the Platform, she hadn’t surfed the vessel’s computer code recreationally for months. The Raven's logic flowed in her brain and made sense, but there was so much of it to process. And even though her body was energized, she could feel her mind softening from exhaustion.

  An hour and a half elapsed and the ship approached the rim of the atmosphere. The hull temperature rose slightly as the first atoms and molecules of the multi-hued gas giant started dragging along the Raven's coal black exterior. Gorian inhaled deeply, the smell of sweat, brandy, and salt grasped her nostrils. She closed her eyes. Lines of glowing blue code branded her mind. An uncontrollable voice rose up from the depths and screamed: You’re going to burn Gory Ann. The code in her head darkened, turned to ash; her thoughts wandered in despair. Burn, burn, burn. She opened her eyes ready to submit to defeat, when a line of blue symbols reappeared before her on the screen - whether it was a coincidence or perhaps a gift from Melat she did not know. But it was now clear to her what she needed to do.

  When the hull reached its critical temperature, sirens blared, causing the entire crew to jump into sobreity. Iggy stood up, startled from his torpor, her-his huge eyes staring at Gorian. "Gorian, what is wrong?" He asked.

  "Not now Ig, I don't have time." Gorian knew that programming was as much an art as a science. Each programmer wrote code in a unique manner. When she opened her eyes, the signature programming style of the sabotuer that altered HM on the Platform was blinking on the Raven's screen in its holy blue light. She had but to search for this signature pattern throughout the Raven's programming, remove it, and then Melat could be rejoined to her mind. Gorian frantically wrote the algorithms necessary to clean the programming, checked them quickly twice, and told the HM to execute.

  As Gorian waited for her program to run through the vessel’s trillions of lines of machine code, the temperature in the cabin became unbearable. The scent of melting plastic and ionized metal assaulted them. No one spoke - the tension permeated the air. Fromer stood at the entryway to the command room waiting for a cue from Gorian. The Raven shuddered violently. Gorian rubbed her slick fingers and the screen went blank. The logical side of her brain was not expecting this and thought: This is strange. The emotional side of her mind, usually tucked far away, screamed: We’re going to die. I have to get out of here.

  Gorian slumped backwards. The crew closed their eyes, expecting a fiery end. The cabin would begin to melt around them. Air would superheat. And they all would understand what Fen and Grey experienced on the Platform.

  "Well, here we go. I never thought I would bake like a turkey. Turkey sounds delicious right now." Verat swigged from his bottle.

  In her periphery, Gorian saw a faint pulsing of blue light. She glanced at it to see the words: Plug me in.

  With no time to process it, Gorian turned to Fromer and nodded; he ran into the command and grabbed Melat from the floor. How light she was. With one swift motion, he threw her into the seat, aligned the web of light to her spine and head, and jabbed the needle into her vein, potentially killing the one person he cared for in a very long time.

  Deep inside the ship Melat awoke. Seeds floated in the gentle breeze.

  The Raven lurched and its ion thrusters fired. The air cooled and the giant planet shrunk to a dot. Within moments, the vessel was near the buoy - a blinking red light suspended in nothingness. The quantum drives thrummed loudly and the crew was twist, twist, twisting away.

  INTERLUDE

  Loping in the bowels beneath space were the lifeless ones. Eyes lidless, hands without fingers, minds without consciousness. They existed before the universe began and would continue after it was lifeless again. They sought light. Light was to be coveted and corrupted.

  In the dim nether region of their dominion, ships traveled from that place of light. Beings, intelligent ones, had arrived and were burrowing through. In and out, weaving through the sanctity of the lifeless ones’ realm, mocking them. They must react. But how might they find the light?

  In the shadows they saw the tiny tendrils - roots- open a narrow seam before them. Not large. But big enough to squeeze through if they really tried. The light was dim, clouded, brown and musty. But it invited them and they accepted.

  Life was tepid and simple there. They touched it and it did not recoil. Rather, it embraced them and they grabbed, scratched, foiled, mangled it. Foolish beings. Easily manipulated. From here, they would multiply. And bend the light to their liking.

  Chapter 27 – Escape

  Excerpt from personal journal of Grey Commons:

  We’ve arrived at Nine. I feel wretched. I’m unsure whether it’s Verat's damn cold, the aftermath of my injuries on the Platform, or the malfunction during the drop. Probably all of them. About the failed drop - I never want to experience that feeling again. I remember reading about an execution method on old earth where each of a person's arms and legs were tied to a rope and hooked up to a horse; the animals were then forced to run in opposite directions, tearing the victim apart. Being drawn and quartered it was called. I have a new appreciation for those poor souls. I’m already dreading the drop back to the Platform.

  We all also had the strange sensation that the malfunction occurred before - that we all had this experience, although none of us have been involved in a drop malfunction. We’re wondering whether some temporal hiccup occurred. The time on the navigation beacon of the Raven read about 30 seconds earlier than the chronometer of the buoy network. It looks like we did skip backwards in time.

  It has only been two days, but we all feel like we’ve been stuck in the Raven for a week or more. We still have a huge mission ahead of us. Yet, morale and energy is waning. I’m the supposed leader of this mission, so I need to talk with everyone about focusing on Nine. After all, we survived a near miss, are not dead or injured, and still have the opportunity to study a developing planet up close.

  Gorian’s been tight-lipped about what exactly was the problem with the ship and Melat. Gorian spoke with Fromer at length about something in the cargo hold. However, when I asked her about the problem, she said it was a glitch in the programming. In her opinion, Melat's brain reacted to the computer error as a threat and responded by having her physically pull her body out of the system. This is a known side effect of piloting and has caused accidents in the past. But Gorian’s a bad liar; I know she’s holding back on me. Given her fragile state right now, I decided not to push her. Fromer on the other hand will be hearing from me soon.

  Melat is well physically. However, she was dazed after the drop and has been sleeping heavily for the past few hours. We’re still expecting her to pilot the
shuttle to the surface. We plan to let her sleep as we prep our supplies. We’ll wake her when we’re ready to go in the morning. I hope she’s more coherent then.

  Prep is going as expected. Gorian has debuted her probes. They look like fat dragonflies. They’re designed to fly around the planet and drop tiny geologic sensors along the surface. Iggy has been calibrating a series of atmospheric samplers to give us precise compositional data about the organic molecules being produced by the plant life. I’m in charge of biological collections. Verat is primarily sampling surface water chemistry. We’ve noticed one container that has not been touched. I asked Fromer about it and he ignored me. I need to assert my command now. Uncle Fen will support me.

  Chapter 28 - Descent

  The tense crew was assembled in the cargo hold. Their equipment was packed, arranged, and locked down in the shuttle. Grey stood in front of them. "We’ve been through a lot during the past two days. In six hours, we’ll head to the planet. I needn’t remind you, I hope, that our mission hasn’t started yet. The business with the drop is behind us and we need to focus on the task ahead. We’ve drilled for this moment for weeks and each of you know your jobs. This is a once in a lifetime opportunity. Savor every instant."

  Minns, a skinny soldier with bags hanging under her eyes, threw an empty bottle into the recycler. "How sure are you that Mel’s in shape to ferry us down there? And more importantly to get us back? She’s not looking so great you know. Shouldn’t we wait for backup? We didn’t sign up for this kind of mess."

 

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