And sleep . . . I.C.C. had slept. A human woman had kissed its camera housing and bid it good-night. It had gone dormant, leaving its great body silent and stoic—like monoliths—in the mountains.
The mountains of Noumenon—that was the name the crew had given this new world.
Am I alone? I.C.C. reached out with its sensors. Why had that old video started playing?
Why had I.C.C. awoken?
Another recording started then. No visuals, just a voice.
“Fleet Admiral Joanna Straifer the Forty-Ninth, personal notes.
“The foundation has been laid. Now it’s up to time and chance to see what becomes of these planets. The capsules may be programmed to open after so long, or after the presence of a self-replicating molecule chain is detected. One day they’ll release their contents onto the new worlds.
“The ships are humming with speculations. Most of the scientists are calling it a remarkable coincidence that these planets were created so close to Earth. We have no way of knowing how far away the Builders originated, and the chance that they could detect fundamental life on a distant planet such as ours may be slim.
“Then there are those who don’t think it’s a coincidence. They are looking at the situation very differently. I was surprised when my helmsman mumbled something about God today, and he wasn’t just repeating the new nickname for the Web. He thinks this was the work of an Almighty. I’ve never thought of God as a mechanic before, but supposedly deities work in mysterious ways. I may not believe it myself, but I can’t fault the man’s thinking.
“Personally, I take a third position. I don’t think it is mere coincidence, nor do I think it divine. I believe the Web was a teaching tool, sent into a portion of the galaxy where other life was likely. Perhaps the Builders did devise a way to locate other life, regardless of how basic. After all, they were more advanced than we ever considered. Though no one can claim to know what the Builders intended, I don’t think they failed to complete their God Machine because they died out. It was left on purpose, to be discovered and learned from by others. There were no written directions or formulas because there was no need for them if the right kind of societies found it, ones with the drive to think creatively and problem solve. I wonder how many other species stumbled upon the Web only to shrug their shoulders and move on. The Builders somehow uncovered the mystery of life, and created the conditions just so for it to arise, but they wanted to assure a proper audience.
“The point was to create something new, to show others in the universe how it’s done.
“Of course, I could be wrong. To be perfectly honest, I don’t know why it was made. And I’m proud to say it—I don’t know. To create a solar system with life, yes, but why? There’s no shame in admitting that one cannot comprehend everything that exists in the universe. Nor is there shame in endeavoring to understand what cannot be understood.
“We may not know for epochs to come what this means for Earth. But it means more than an ancient artifact floating around a star. It means extraterrestrial life may one day exist with us. I hope humans are still around when that time comes. If not, I hope our successors will appreciate neighbors. The system is close enough to easily travel to, and the conditions currently resemble early Earth, meaning the life will most likely be like ours at a fundamental level.
“We will remain in orbit to watch over these fledgling planets. The gravity of their star has added extra excitement to their crusts and cores—we’ve detected seismic activity. Once the ground settles we might even consider a permanent landing.
“I am overwhelmed by these events. I feel it now, the hope and anticipation and wonder I have been waiting to feel all my life. This is the way the original travelers must have felt. Perhaps even how the original Doctor Reggie Straifer felt when he first glimpsed LQ Pyx.
“Reggie had a vision. He wanted us to reach a star and learn its secret. We’ve done it. And what a secret it turned out to be.
“There was great purpose in this expedition. The life of this convoy has meant something.
“Reason is a fickle thing. Many cannot see their own purpose but for the time it takes their actions to have consequences. I think about the lives of my ancestors and what they have meant to the future. Life itself may have a greater purpose. I know the creation of more means something, though I can’t say what. Maybe each civilization is a piece of the purpose, and when one affects another we are all closer to the greater meaning.
“I believe time will tell.”
The recording cut out. Joanna’s words echoed through the darkened corridors, touching portions of I.C.C. that hadn’t heard a human voice in . . . How long?
I.C.C., do you dream? asked a shadow memory inside its databanks.
“Daydream,” it replied.
What do you daydream about?
“I don’t like the idea of being empty, so I imagine . . . others.”
An old camera, stiff with age, rotated toward the monitor that had brought Reggie to life. Shapes loomed in front of the bright screen. At the whir of the camera’s motor, they turned to face the timeworn aperture.
Dozens of dark, eager eyes stared into the lens.
“Perhaps I won’t run down alone,” I.C.C. said. “Perhaps I will be of use to the end.”
Author’s Note
There are a few deliberate choices within the text that might raise questions, and I’d like to address them here before I move on to the fun part where I get to thank everyone for their contributions to Noumenon Infinity.
I had several sensitivity readers help me with my social and cultural research while writing, and they were all wonderful. Any mistakes you find in-text are entirely my responsibility.
After discussing it with my Cantonese SR, there was one inconsistency I purposefully included in order to facilitate easy reading. While most Romanizations of Cantonese words found within are Jyutping sans-numbers, I chose to use Lùhng for “dragon” because the Jyutping transcription “lung” (and even the Mandarin for dragon “long”) is easily misread as an English word.
On a different note, Orlando is not the Captain of Pulse by accident. On June 12, 2016, there was a mass shooting at the Pulse nightclub in Orlando, Florida. The shooting at Pulse hit me particularly deeply, and I wanted to pay tribute to the victims and heroes in my own small way. The inclusion of Pulse as a ship of survivors reaching for hope was cathartic for me, and very personal. My intent here isn’t even to draw your attention to the commemoration, so much as explain its addition to those who may have noticed.
My love and respect goes out to all those directly impacted by the tragedy.
Acknowledgments
Here we are again, at the end of another long journey, one that took this story from a simple idea in my mind all the way to a complete tale in yours. If you’re still reading, then I have to assume you read my previous acknowledgments section in Noumenon and are waiting for another completely unnecessary—yet wholly enjoyable—parody song that thanks the many people who helped, in some way, to construct this book.
First, let me point out that there are very few songs one can seamlessly slip a long list of names into. Second, I know I started this so I’m in too deep, I’m committed now—there’s no going back. Third . . . are you familiar with Johnny Cash? Well, Justice is his third cousin seven times removed. And he’s got a song that just happens to be a long list of names.
So, I give you, “Words, Paper, and Care” which can be hummed (roughly) to the tune of “I’ve Been Everywhere”:
I was listening to the soundtrack to Tron Legacy
When along came a reader who had a question for me,
“How do you do it, make a book all by yourself?”
I said, “Takes a village to get that book upon your shelf.”
They asked me if I’d had a hand with every single bit.
And I said, “Listen, I owe thanks to everyone in lit.”
Words, paper, and care, man
Words, paper,
and care, man
Crossed every T to spare, man
I’ve addressed the edits with a stare, man
These folks all had a share, man
Words, paper, and care
Thanks to:
Renninson, Krishnan, Bardon, Pomerico,
Kirtland, Corrigan, Durand, DeMarco
Friedman, Kaftan, Morhaim, Song
Baror, Gower, Stehlik, Tom
Messing, Topping, J. Ng, Holicki
Perny, Jaffee, Baillie, Belilovsky
Words, paper, and care, man
Words, paper, and care, man
O’Keefe, Bellet and Rivers, man
Sharp, Webb and Craft were there, man
A. Stewart and E. Bear, man
Words, paper, and care
More thanks to:
Sara, Jason, Dad, Mom
Olivia, Austin, #teamDongWon
Sheri, Wendy, Kenny, Mustafa
Colin, Logan, Dan, Ciulla
Abner Stein, Christine, Ice cream, Nicholls,
Parker(s), Carpenter(s), Nelson(s), Recorded Books
Words, paper, and care, man
Words, paper, and care, man
Wang, Wilson and Wallach, man
Resnick, Heyne, and Alex L. (my man)
All these folks are super swell, Stan
Words, paper, and care
Thanks to everyone on the list, man
Even those I might have missed, man
You gave a grand assist, man
Words . . . paper . . . and caaaaaaaare!
About the Author
Marina J. Lostetter and her husband, Alex, live in Northwest Arkansas with two Tasmanian devils. No, wait, those are house cats. Marina’s original short fiction has appeared in venues such as Lightspeed, InterGalactic Medicine Show, and Shimmer Magazine. When not writing, she loves creating art, playing board games, traveling, and reading about science and history. Marina often shakes her fist at the clouds on Twitter as @MarinaLostetter, and rambles on her blog at www.lostetter.net. If you stop by her website, don’t forget to sign up to be a newsletter recipient.
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Noumenon
Copyright
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
noumenon infinity. Copyright © 2018 by Little Lost Stories, LLC. All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the nonexclusive, nontransferable right to access and read the text of this e-book on-screen. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, downloaded, decompiled, reverse-engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereafter invented, without the express written permission of HarperCollins e-books.
first edition
Frontispiece © Christopher Barrett / Shutterstock
Cover design by Owen Corrigan
Cover art by Steven Messing
Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data has been applied for.
Digital Edition AUGUST 2018 ISBN: 978-0-06-249787-1
Print ISBN: 978-0-06-249786-4
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