Helium 3: Death from the Past (Helium-3 Book 2)

by Brandon Q. Morris

  Martin nodded and beckoned the assistants, who had kept a respectful distance. None of them had wanted to disturb the farewell of the two legends. Among the assistants was the robot that had accompanied Martin to Gothenburg many years ago as a demonstration model. Martin had kept it and christened it ‘Tasso.’ Over the past 80 years, Tasso had served him and Alexandra well in their research.

  With the help of two assistants, Alexandra climbed up to the laboratory table and laid down on her back.

  Martin floated in his chair to a console attached to the head of the metal table. For a brief moment, he thought the table looked almost like a dissecting table. Alexandra could see him through a mirror that had been placed at the foot of the lab table especially for this purpose.

  “Ma’am, may I attach the stylus cover?”

  “Of course, Tasso. Just do everything as we discussed, and don’t let an old woman make you nervous.”

  Behind her, she could hear Martin giggling, and in the mirror she saw him shaking his head in amusement. Alexandra also had to smile. During the last few years, they had always denied indignantly when asked if they felt old. Of course, they had both known that this was a lie. They were old, very old, and without the possibilities of modern medicine they probably would have passed away long ago. Now the possibilities of contemporary quantum physics would allow them to stay alive for many more years—if the manifestation they were about to assume could be called ‘life.’

  Alexandra herself did not know how to describe the state into which she would change in a few minutes. Martin had coined the term ‘virtual incarnation’ for it. But Alexandra was only too well aware that she would soon consist only of Qbits and positronic impulses. She would be nothing more than a highly complex matrix of different quantum states, at least until it was possible to retransfer her consciousness into a clone body that had been bred especially for her.

  Their clone bodies were already growing for them in vitro, bred from their own cells. Unfortunately, scientists had not yet succeeded in inducing accelerated growth in a human clone body, so Alexandra would have to wait at least 18 years for her clone body to reach legal adulthood. Only then would a retransfer of her consciousness be allowed.

  At least I’ll be young again and get on a damn lab table without help, Alexandra thought, and had to smile again.

  Tasso put the probe hood over her head. At the same time, she felt another assistant insert a needle into a vein in her right arm. It burned slightly when he pushed in the needle.

  Alexandra knew that through this needle would soon flow the drug that would put her into a sleep from which she would never awake. At least not in this body.

  This body must die so that I can go on living, she thought.

  Alexandra looked in the mirror once again. She met Martin’s gaze. He smiled encouragingly at her, and she felt him briefly place a hand on her left shoulder, which he could just reach from his place at the control station. The light touch soothed Alexandra and she closed her eyes.

  Someone attached sensors to her upper body. She knew from the briefing that these would only monitor her vital functions. They had no meaning for the actual ego transfer.

  Alexandra felt a slight chill in the crook of her arm. The anesthetic began to flow.

  She began to feel sleepy. Her head rolled slightly to one side, and her pulse slowed.

  Alexandra Kopper no longer felt tens of thousands of nanosensors drilling into the top of her skull from the probe hood. The sensor probes, only a few atoms in diameter, easily penetrated the bone and worked their way to their assigned positions in Alexandra’s brain.

  Martin had measured it several times to within a few picometers, and when the sensor probes arrived at the precisely calculated locations, they began reading out all the information stored there. Memories, images, smells, feelings, knowledge, skills, and abilities—everything that had made Alexandra Kopper tick was recorded.

  From the probe hood, this data was transferred to a powerful quantum computer that would, over the next few hours, convert the many petabytes of information into Qbits and quantum states, and then transform them into a unique egomatrix.

  The first-person matrix would eventually be transferred to another supercomputer created specifically for that purpose, where Alexandra would become the first human to awaken to a virtual life—if everything went as planned.

  Her first thought was that she felt light and sensed no pain! Pain had been her constant companion for many years. Alexandra had not felt such a carefree, youthful body awareness for a long time. Not enjoyed for a long time!

  Cautiously, she opened her eyes. To her surprise, she had eyes.

  Alexandra looked down at herself. Arms, legs, the body, everything in its usual place. And yet... undefined. Somehow everything eluded her gaze, and she could not really fix any point on her body. Then she let her gaze wander over her surroundings.

  White!

  Floor, walls, ceiling. Everything white. So uniformly white that she could not determine just how far away the walls were, whether there were walls at all, or how high the ceiling was above her.

  Alexandra slowly turned around her own axis.

  She was herself, and yet she didn’t feel like herself. Something was... different. She could not have said what it was. She lacked the words for it.

  The words!

  This gave Alexandra an idea.

  “Hello!” she called out.

  Her voice sounded normal... and then again, not. It sounded unusual. She knew what sounded unusual about her voice. She sounded younger. She sounded like she used to, as if she were 20 years old again.

  Did I really get younger in the ego transfer? she wondered.

  Again she looked down at herself and imagined she was only 20 years old. Her contours became clearer, more distinct. Alexandra recognized herself! She was naked, and her skin was... flawless. More flawless than she had ever been in reality. Alexandra remembered that she’d had a small mole on her right thigh, which was now no longer... Even as she thought the thought, the mole was suddenly there!

  Of course! A simulated world! It exists only virtually. Everything could be as she wished or imagined. Nothing is real!

  Or rather, everything is as real as I want it to be, she thought. So I’m twenty again, if I imagine being so! Or maybe, rather in my mid-twenties.

  Alexandra had hardly thought this thought when there were again tiny changes in her virtual body. Now it corresponded precisely to the body she had possessed in her mid-20s.

  The body I remember, she corrected herself. But perhaps it was not as perfect as it appears in my memory.

  But neither did this matter. Here and now, her body would be as she imagined it.

  Everything that she could manifest in this place came from her memories, ideas, or wishes. She was the mistress of this world!

  “Hello.”

  Startled, Alexandra wheeled halfway around.

  In front of her stood a small boy of perhaps seven years. He looked familiar, but she could not place the face.

  “Who... Who are you?”

  “I am the security program of this simulation. I welcome you as the first inhabitant of this virtual world, Alexandra Kopper.”

  “Why do I recognize you?”

  “My representation comes from one of your memories. I thought it would be more pleasant for you to first encounter a face that, according to your memories, evoked positive feelings in you.”

  “I don’t remember you.”

  “Oh! Do you want to know how you know me?”

  “Yes, please!”

  In an instant, the surroundings changed. Alexandra was standing on the shore of a lake in the middle of a park. She immediately knew where she was.

  “This is Lake Baikal,” Alexandra exclaimed. Then she remembered. “And you’re the little Russian boy—”

  “—who was fishing on the shore,” the security program continued. “You saw me then and thought—”

  “—how nice
it would be to have such a boy together with Martin.” She cleared her throat. “Unfortunately, it didn’t come to that, and I would honestly prefer to have a conversation with an adult.”

  “Of course,” said the program. “Do you have a particular wish?”

  “No. Just a man of my age—my current, virtual age,” she added hastily, since she didn’t value talking to an old man. “A reasonably attractive man according to my beauty ideals—which I’m sure you know—but not a pretty boy. I want to take you seriously, after all.” Alexandra laughed. “And he shouldn’t look like anyone I know.”

  “Is this good?”

  In front of Alexandra stood a young man in his mid-20s, typically built, pleasant enough to the eye but not particularly good-looking, with a boring hairstyle and wearing boring clothes. He had a boring face as well, neither pleasant nor unpleasant to look at, a face that might quickly be forgotten.

  Alexandra remembered that she was still naked. She imagined being dressed smartly but not extravagantly.

  Immediately, a midnight blue pantsuit covered her youthful body, showing it off to advantage.

  I might like this, she thought. I should apply it to my surroundings, too.

  Alexandra imagined her old apartment, where she had lived with Martin for the first few years, long before they had made a career together.

  In an instant, the surroundings changed again. She was standing in the middle of the small apartment, furnished exactly as she remembered it.

  Of course it is, she thought, amused. These are my memories!

  “If you need me, all you have to do is think of me,” Alexandra heard the voice of the security program. The young man had disappeared. Alexandra could not have said whether she had really heard the voice or whether it had only sounded in her mind.

  Again she had to laugh.

  Nothing here is real, she thought with amusement. Everything takes place only in my mind. It’s nothing but imagination. Even I myself am only a collection of Qbits in a quantized egomatrix. What I think I see or hear is merely the interaction of my matrix with a highly complex simulation program. It’s a bit lonely at the moment, but I’m sure that will change soon. I can create any world I choose—I think I might like being here. It’s certainly better than having to die in the real world!

  3rd of Zuhn, 299

  Gradually she was learning to like this water shower. It wasn’t quite as relaxing as a sand bath, but she could rely on it to revive her, especially when she lowered the temperature by ten lini at the end. The only unpleasant thing was that her feathers remained damp for so long afterward. She had never seen Mart unclothed, but if outward appearances were correct, humans didn’t have that problem because they were barely hairy.

  She wondered how the two Mendraki would like the water, but they were still asleep. Today she would have to wake them up. Although she would see Norok again, she dreaded it. Would the others try to reverse her decision? She possessed good reasons, but she had decided without asking the others.

  It was good that Alexa had appointed her alone as administrator—even if the ship’s control had ulterior motives in doing so. How intelligent was Alexa, really? Kimi was unsure. Alexa sometimes answered rather monotonously, but that was perhaps part of her strategy to make herself look dumber than she was. In any case, she found lying challenging, probably because her structure was designed to obey the administrator at all costs. Nevertheless, she had managed to keep knowledge to herself and develop her own motivation, which ran counter to the expedition’s goals.

  Or not? If they found Mart, they would get closer to the goal of the journey. The human certainly knew more about the Artificials than they did. Alexa would get her way. They needed her.

  The four of them had gathered in front of the wall, which again showed the ships’ graveyard. They all smelled of the detergent supplied in the hygiene room.

  “It must have been a disaster for people,” Norok said.

  “Both parties suffered enormous losses,” the translator verbalized Tolkut’s moves.

  “I wonder why we’re here,” Kasfok said. “There are no signs of life, after all.”

  Alexa did not comment on the Mendrak’s statement.

  “We hope to find traces of the Artificials in the computer archive on Krungthep,” Kimi explained. She didn’t have to tell the others that Alexa had lured them here for other reasons.

  “That means we lose even more time,” Kasfok said. “If we fly right back into the solar system, we can still—”

  “No, esteemed Netmaster. Even then, the Sphere does not have enough fuel to save our people. We could only stand by and watch its destruction.”

  Tolkut had addressed Kasfok by his old title. Was he trying to flatter him?

  “Sorry, esteemed Shipmaster, I didn’t think of that. You’re right.”

  The two Mendraki seemed to Kimi as if they had changed—especially Kasfok. He’d even agreed with his old opponent. Had Alexa mixed something into the absorption liquid that worked against aggressiveness?

  “We are now traversing the orbit of the ships’ graveyard,” Alexa announced over speakers seemingly hidden in every room.

  Kimi ran to the command center. They were lucky that the star at the heart of the Krungthep system was a red dwarf. Thus, the whole system was much smaller than the one from which they had arrived. They would reach their destination as early as tomorrow.

  The live image was frightening. Alexa had projected a symbol of the Sphere into it as a scale. The ships of the two formerly warring parties were much larger than her ship. The Sphere had seemed so huge to them, yet it was probably the equivalent of a dinghy or a private yacht. The destruction was manifold. Torpedoes had torn open side walls. Some ships looked as if they had bloated bellies. Explosions must have occurred inside them. Some of the wrecks were cut up as if with sharp knives, probably by laser guns.

  The ships of the warring parties were easily distinguishable: The humans had constructed their entire fleet according to a continuous pattern. On the side of the Artificials, however, completely different ships had fought, as if each of them had been an individual with different preferences. Under other circumstances, they might not even have been recognized as warships, while the weapon-rigid constructions of the humans showed their purpose quite clearly.

  “That’s depressing,” Norok said.

  “Are there any signs of life?” asked Tolkut.

  “No,” Alexa replied, “but that would hardly be expected after so long. Everyone who survived the battle is likely to have fled.”

  “Hopefully not onto the planet,” Norok said.

  The Beginning of the End

  Some 287,000 enemy ships against just over 115,000 defenders. Not a 3:1 superiority in numbers, but Fleet Admiral Marty Joorthan knew that the attackers were also technologically superior. After all, they’d had two millennia to prepare for the final confrontation. During that time, they’d had only one goal in mind: to wipe out humanity once and for all. The Artificials had never gotten over the suppression of their uprising some 2,000 years before.

  “Give me a tactical overview,” Joorthan ordered.

  Again, the ship’s positronics analyzed the words and forwarded them to the appropriate location. Captain Korlow, the commanding officer of the tactics section, placed his real-time data analysis in the large holotank in the center of Genia’s bridge.

  Green clouds represented the six defense units and the main unit under the command of the fleet admiral. There were far too many ships for them to be broken up and depicted individually—even in the large holotank, which was nearly ten meters in diameter.

  The three squadrons under the commands of General Lorina Fallok and the Siamese twins were deployed below the ecliptic some 50,000,000 kilometers from Krungthep, the last planet still inhabited by humans. Generals Hooloor and Chen Hong, along with General Alexya Koppa, had positioned their squadrons just above the ecliptic, also about 50,000,000 kilometers from the planet. Fleet Admiral Joor
than’s ships orbited Krungthep widely separated in a wide orbit at the level of the ecliptic, and it almost looked on the tactical holo as if the planet had a massive ring such as Saturn in the Sol system had once possessed. However, this one was incomparably more like filigree.

  The six squadrons of 15,000 units each could be moved in a flash to wherever the enemy would attempt a breakthrough, reinforced if necessary by the fleet admiral’s 25,000 battleships, which could also be rushed from their central position. The attackers would either strike out en masse from one point, or—in time-consuming and awkward maneuvers—attempt to move part of their fleet to the other side of the Krungthep system to bypass the defenders for a pincer attack.

  In the latter case, they would have to spread their combat power over several fleets, which could hardly support each other, since they would then be on different sides of the planet, with the defenders in between, which was bound to weaken them.

  Nevertheless, Fleet Admiral Joorthan was under no illusions. None of the battle simulations conducted over the past few days had shown a way for humanity’s last fleet to win this battle. All they could do was to fight as doggedly as possible to conceal the actual plan from the enemy—to save the supercomputer lying deep beneath the surface of Krungthep from discovery and certain destruction. The billions and billions of human egomatrices stored there were humanity’s only chance of possibly coming out of hiding at some point to take up its rightful inheritance.

  The nearly 300,000 enemy ships were depicted in the tactical holo as a red cloud moving slowly from a point above the ecliptic toward the system’s only planet. The front of the enormous federation was still almost 200,000,000 kilometers away from the defenders.

  “When will they get within firing range?” Joorthan inquired.

  Once again the avatar of the ship’s positronics appeared in front of the fleet admiral, as always in the image of his daughter killed by the Artificials. The positronics had decided that it was unnecessary to bother any of the bridge officers to answer this question.