The Gods We Seek

by Eric Johannsen

  “If you don’t find something useful, that’s time wasted playing with high-tech toys,” Musa said.

  “Better than floating around chasing helium.”

  Dylan raised a hand. “Whoa, slow it down, boys.” A coughing spasm overcame him. “What do you think, Sara?”

  She chewed her lip. “If medieval knights stumbled across a crashed F-35, could they use it to help them win a war?” She looked at Chad, her eyes empathetic. “Even if Leonardo da Vinci found that jet, could he solve its mysteries without help from its builders? I’m with Musa on this. We need allies, not just a piece of technology.”

  Chad’s face turned red. He snorted in a breath, held on to it, and let it ease out between his lips. “We can split up. I’ll stay here and continue my research while the Quadriga searches for a trail. Sara’s getting the hang of controlling the ship. With a few days of focused instruction, she might-”

  Dylan shook his head. “Last time we split up, we thought the planet was filled with tame aquatic life. That adventure damn near ended in disaster. This planet has active predators, and we know for a fact that the germs can do us in right quick. If you picked up an infection, the Quadriga wouldn’t be around to heal you.”

  “I’m sorry Chad,” Sara said. “Dylan’s right. We’re all going out to search for breadcrumbs.”

  #

  The Quadriga skirted the system’s heliopause sniffing for excess helium. Without knowing precisely how long ago the UFO crashed on the planet, or how much hydrogen it fused into helium while traveling the cosmos, nobody was sure whether the trail could be detected by their makeshift instruments. Every minute or two, a chirp sounded on the bridge, the signal that the sensors found a trace of helium.

  “I feel cold,” Ji-min said. She floated at the front of the ship, observing the distant star. “It feels wrong, that dim, orange light. It reminds me of picking crops in late fall, racing against the oncoming storm.” She shuttered. “It reminds me of when I lost my dad.”

  Sara drifted up and wrapped her arm around Ji-min’s shoulder and the two sat in silence.

  From the conn, Chad said, “I’m calling it. Eight hours of searching this area, no significant helium pockets. The path from here to Eta Cassiopeiae is a bust. If anything, the overall concentration’s slightly lower than average.” He closed his eyes, envisioning the next stop. Without fixed markers, guiding the ship required intense focus.

  “We’ve been at it for over a week,” Dylan said. “We’ve ruled out every star that could support advanced life within twenty light years. How many people died back on Earth while we’ve been poking around in the interstellar dust? We’re not getting anywhere.” Dylan hung his head, a conscious effort given the lack of gravity. “I feel useless. We’ve explored the galaxy for months with little to show for it. Is humanity even still alive? I mean, what if we’re all that’s left? What if the Quadriga is the final arc of humanity, carrying the last of our species?”

  A little too loud, Sara said, “Don’t get any ideas, Dylan.”

  He blushed. “Sara. Sorry, I… I didn’t mean it like that. It’s- I’ll stop talking now.”

  Ji-min whispered to Sara, “He might be right. We might fail. If we do, we’ll face the decision of starting over, rebuilding our race and civilization on some new world, or… Or letting it all die out with us. Millions of years of culture and advancement, our identity, our footprint on the universe, gone.”

  “I refuse to think about that,” Sara said. “We must succeed.”

  “Next up, the path to Gliese 892,” Chad said.

  “I still don’t see why most stars only have catalog numbers,” Dr. Skye said. “In my field, if you discover something, you get to name it. It’s so boring to call these things by their number.”

  “In defense of astrophysicists, and to paraphrase Carl Sagan, there are billions and billions of stars out there,” Chad said. The Quadriga went into warp. “I say, the first people to visit a place should name it. We’ll be at the trail to Gliese 892, henceforth known as Sydney’s Star, in 5, 4, 3, 2, 1.” The ship came to a stop.

  Chirp. Chirp chirp. Chirp.

  Sara spun around.

  Jake clapped Chad on the shoulder.

  Chad grinned wildly. “We found our breadcrumbs.”

  #

  Dylan swung into his chair. “How far is it this time?”

  “About the same as last time. Twenty-one light years and change,” Musa said.

  “Crap. That’s another three months away from Earth.” He balled his fist and smacked it into his thigh. “How many people will die in that time? Even if we find help, we still gotta bring it back home.”

  Chad sighed. “I know, Dylan. At least there’s a silver lining. The route takes us more-or-less perpendicular to Earth. We’re not getting farther away.” He closed his eyes and envisioned their destination. The Quadriga jumped to warp. “I might be able to get us moving a tad faster. The speed we traveled so far feels like safe mode, slow enough that anyone can guide the ship with little risk.”

  “Anyone?” Sara asked. “So far, you’re the only one with any real control.”

  “You’re starting to grasp it,” Chad said, his eyes still closed. “Not helm control, but you have a decent command of the ship’s form. I wouldn’t be surprised if you could get it to grow something simple for you, like a habitat.” His breathing slowed. “How fast are we moving now?”

  Dr. Skye consulted one of the instruments they brought from Earth that tracked the motion of stars, a backup in case Chad’s intuition failed them. “Yep, you are doing better. We’re moving ninety times the speed of light, give or take five percent.”

  “Musa, what do we know about our destination?” Dylan asked. “Tell me it’s not another red dwarf. Those worlds are so damn depressing to look at without color correction.”

  “You’re in luck,” Musa said. “Sydney’s Star is a main sequence star, a little dimmer than the sun and more of an orange-red.”

  “We’re not calling it Sydney’s Star,” Dr. Skye said, an unamused scowl on her face.

  “I don’t know,” Musa said. “That sounds a lot better than Gliese 892.”

  She punched him in the shoulder.

  “OK, already,” Musa said.

  “If you two are done fighting, I’d like to learn more about where we’re headed,” Dylan said.

  Musa rubbed his shoulder. “There are several known or suspected worlds in orbit around Sy- Around Gliese 892. Four super-earths are too close in for liquid water and four planets, a mix of super-earths and Jovians, are too far out. That leaves one in the Goldilocks zone. It’s big, around eleven times heavier than Earth.”

  “We’d be crushed walking around on it,” Ji-min said.

  “Not necessarily,” Musa said. “Though we’d struggle for longer trips. It’s heavier but also larger, so surface gravity will be about twice what we experience on Earth. Maybe a little less.”

  Ji-min grinned at Musa. “Some of us might handle that kind of weight. I can’t walk very far with a second me on my back.”

  “We’ll need to prepare our bodies,” Dylan said. “And we’ll need technology to support us, some kind of exosuit to help our muscles and keep the blood from pooling in our limbs.”

  Chad smiled. “I have some ideas for that suit. As for preparing ourselves…” Meditative calm washed over his body. The walls of the Quadriga shifted, like melting gold-and-gray wax flowing in response to an unseen force.

  Dylan drifted to the top of the bridge’s transparent dome. “Wow” was all he could manage.

  Jake and Musa joined him, their expressions a reflection of his awe.

  The seven chairs on the bridge shifted as if they were decorations on a thawing ice cream cake, moving to form a ring at the back of the bridge. The floor, which helped fill the human need for a sense of up, vanished into the wall, its material flowing toward the new construction. The rear wall joined it, revealing a cavernous space where their quarters had been and uncovering
the Mars Lander like a nail in an ancient tree, wrapped in years of growth. Stars outside swirled as the ship began to spin on its long axis.

  “I reshaped the living space to a ring around the ship,” Chad said. “We’ll start at one gravity and work our quarters toward two g’s. We can personalize the gravity for each of us.”

  Silence hung in what was once the bridge.

  “You’re welcome,” Chad said.

  Gliese Eight Nine Twoians

  “It’s about time,” Dylan said. “I’m going stir crazy, all cooped up in this alien contraption.” Sydney’s Star, the name having stuck over, or perhaps because of, Dr. Skye’s objections, was a tiny, orange ball straight ahead, the other stars swirling around it as the Quadriga rolled around its axis. “It’s like the North Star, the one light that stays fixed in the sky, giving us direction.”

  Sara drifted next to him at the tip of the ship’s nose. “You’re worried. That’s why you’re so antsy.”

  Dylan grunted agreement. “There damn well better be something here we can take home. We’ve been away for over half a year. Who knows how bad things are by now? Who knows if anyone’s still alive for us to save?”

  She pinched his biceps. “High gravity becomes you.”

  “You’re trying to distract me.”

  “Is it working?” she asked with a coy smile.

  “You’re a good person, Sara Wells.” He forced a half-smile.

  “There you go,” she said with contagious delight.

  His half-smile spread all the way across his face.

  Chad came onto the bridge, clinging to the edge of the tunnel connecting it to the habitat ring. He kicked off and pulsed his get-around to counteract the wall’s rotation so he could join Dylan and Sara in zero gravity.

  “There he is, mister one point eight g’s,” Dylan said. “I would have bet half the ranch Musa would be our g-force king.”

  “He’s got the physique,” Chad said, “but I’ve got the motivation. Think of all the technology we’re likely to encounter at the UFO’s home base.”

  “If it is a home base,” Dylan said. “Maybe Sydney’s Star’s was only its last stop.”

  “Shoot me,” Chad said. “I’m an optimist.”

  “We can’t land the Quadriga,” Sara said. “Despite these alien’s advances, they still travel sub-light. That would be like a helicopter setting down in medieval Europe. If it doesn’t terrify the locals, there’s a good chance they’ll want to keep it. We’ll have to take the Lander for first contact.”

  “It can’t handle the planet’s gravity,” Dylan said. “It’s designed to work on Mars. Maybe it could function on Earth in a pinch, but not in two g’s. Even if it survives the trip down, there’s no way it would reach orbit again.” He scratched his scar. “I suppose we could ride it to the surface and hope the encounter with the locals goes well. If there are locals.”

  Chad pressed his lips tight. “That means I have to stay behind.”

  “I’m sorry,” Dylan said. “I’ll take good notes for you.”

  Chad shook off the regret. A curious mixture of superiority, cleverness, and childlike enthusiasm crossed his face. “The Lander can handle one g. So, let’s change the equation so we’re only dealing with one g.”

  “You'll change the force of gravity?” Dylan asked, scoffing.

  “Yes.”

  “I think those one point eight g’s in your quarters did something to your brain,” Dylan said.

  “You remember that exotic matter plate I pulled from the UFO?”

  Dylan’s eyebrow shot up and he nodded.

  “I didn’t take just one.”

  “You’re saying you can integrate that into the Lander?”

  “With the Quadriga’s help, yes. It should work for a short period at least. The plates require a huge amount of energy, but I should be able to rig them to work long enough to land the shuttle and lift it far enough out of the planet’s gravity well on the way back for the thrusters to do the rest.”

  “Well then,” Dylan said. “We’re almost there. Get to work.”

  #

  “We’re coming up on Gliese 892 g,” Musa said.

  “The first one of you who calls it Sydney’s Planet will have to deal with me,” Dr. Skye said.

  “Perish the thought,” Musa said and rubbed the spot she had punched him months ago, wincing in mock pain.

  “Dylan, I know you want to go. First contact is dangerous,” Sara said. “You should stay here. If something goes wrong, the crew will need you. We both damn near died last time. We can’t chance it again.”

  “You can take it up with the President,” Dylan said. “Short of a direct order from the Commander-in-Chief, I’m going.”

  “Sure.” Sara folded her arms over her chest. “Musa, would you hold position for forty years while we check with President Billmore?”

  Musa chuckled.

  “Sara, Earth’s running out of time. We both know it,” Dylan said, rubbing the back of his neck. “Look, I’m sorry I sounded like an ass just now. I know it’s your call, but I think we need to accept more risk. If we all die down there, we’ll still have a super genius at the Quadriga’s helm.”

  Sara scrutinized him. “Agreed. But once we land, it’s my mission.”

  “Yes, ma’am,” Dylan said.

  The Quadriga dropped out of warp five hundred kilometers above Gliese 892 g. The ball of water and rock below them was, intellectually, a great deal smaller than gas giants like Saturn or Jupiter, but it felt huge because it was visually like Earth, yet there was far more of it. Four times the surface area, half of it covered by a stunning ocean, periwinkle in the shallows, ultramarine in the depths. The land was flat by Terran standards, covered by teal-and-turquoise vegetation, with occasional yet vast deserts that were shades of cream and peach. A rocky moon, nearly the size of Earth but with an atmosphere more akin to the top of Mount Everest, orbited close to the planet.

  “This place is gorgeous,” Sara said.

  “Huh?” Dylan said, glancing up from his instruments. “Yeah.” He studied the readings. “There aren’t any electromagnetic emissions. Hold on, wait a minute.” He tossed the image from a telescope onto a holographic display. “There’s a city down there. A huge one. It’s hard to make out because it’s integrated into the landscape.”

  Sara turned her attention to the many streams of data coming in. “There’s another city, thirty degrees of longitude ahead, near the equator. And another.”

  “Still no signs of broadcasts,” Dylan said. “It would be useful if we could learn something about them before we plop down and say hello.”

  “First contact with an advanced race, zero intel about them. That’s scary as hell,” Sara said. A faint smile traced across her lips. “Abel and I used to watch old sci-fi stories together. The humans would disguise themselves as the alien species to learn more about them.”

  Dylan laughed. “Yeah, and all those aliens conveniently looked like humans wearing a Halloween mask.”

  “You’re not supposed to criticize while brainstorming,” Sara said with a mildly chiding laugh.

  “Is that what it was?” He chuckled but then shook the smirk off his face. “Sorry.”

  “If you don’t have a better plan, let’s search for a clearing large enough for the Lander outside one of the cities,” Sara said.

  They packed exploration supplies, food for a week, and weapons. The Quadriga excreted the Mars Lander from its skin, with Dylan, Sara, Ji-min, and Musa huddled inside, then warped to the edge of the system. The Lander moved toward a low orbit.

  “Let’s begin our descent,” Sara said.

  Dylan leaned forward, peering at a display. “Sara? Something’s coming up to meet us.”

  #

  “Is it a weapon?” Sara asked.

  Dylan studied the information flooding past his fingertips. “I don’t think so. It’s on a gradual intercept course, almost what we would do if docking at a space station.”

  T
he other craft became a gray dot then a pale disk in the telescope Dylan had trained on it. Minutes ticked by.

  “It’ll take two hours to match our orbit,” Dylan said.

  “Can we meet it halfway?” Sara asked.

  “I never thought about that,” Dylan said. “Every time I’ve docked in space, the goal’s been to meet up with something already in orbit. Yeah, we can do that. I’ll make a small correction and see if they adjust to match.”

  Whoever they were, they did.

  The Lander’s orbit carried it to the planet’s night side. When the other ship was minutes from intercept, it pulsed a green light twice, three times, five times, seven, eleven.

  “They’re SETIing us!” Sara said. “It’s the prime numbers. Can we answer?”

  “Sure, I can use the landing lights.” He flashed the beginning of the prime number sequence in reply.

  The other ship responded with a new mathematical series, the Fibonacci sequence.

  “I’ll be damned,” Dylan said. “Dr. Okoye was right. The simplest protocols might be universal after all.”

  The humans replied.

  Next came a series that went on and on.

  “What the hell? Do they expect us to wait? To interrupt them?” Dylan asked.

  “Let’s keep recording for a while,” Sara said. “Ji-min, do you get anything from them?”

  “No, but I wouldn’t expect to from so far away.”

  The alien lights continued.

  “I can’t match this up to anything at all,” Dylan said. “The ship’s AI isn’t either. It’s a simple AI, but still good at patterns.”

  Sara studied the numbers the computer translated the light pulses into. “The largest number is nine,” she said.

  “So?” Dylan asked.

  “That’s our largest single-digit number because we have ten fingers. It may say something about them.”

  “They have ten fingers just like us?” Dylan asked.

  “Possibly.” Sara entered computer code onto a virtual keyboard and ran the data through her program.

  “I didn’t know you’re a hacker,” Dylan said.

  Sara shrugged. “It’s a hobby. A girl’s gotta keep the brain sharp somehow.” She studied the program’s output. “There’s no information in what they sent us. It’s white noise.”