The Beacon: Hard Science Fiction

by Brandon Q Morris

  Pleased, Kasfok brandished his mandibles. He retrieved the results from the scans and sensor data on a terminal on the wall of the meditation room. One look dashed the faint hopes he’d had of finding a new home for his species in the system. None of the planets was suitable for settlement by the Mendraki. There were indeed two planets orbiting within the habitable zone. Unfortunately for them, one was almost entirely lacking in atmosphere, and the other showed too high an oxygen content for his species to survive there. They’d have to keep looking.

  Something in the jumble of data caught his attention. What’s this? he drummed on the communication thread.

  Nothing unusual, Netmaster! An asteroid that’s on a course within the system. It’s probably an object from deep space that has been caught in the sun’s gravitational field. With the path it’s on, it will plunge into the sun before too long.

  Go and inform the other Shipmasters! In a few pulses I will give the command to start the braking maneuver.

  Shortly after, Kasfok entered the bridge of the fleet’s lead ship. The other Shipmasters were already on the screens, awaiting his instructions. While no pheromones could be transmitted via radio, it was almost possible to smell the various conflicting feelings. Each one was waiting with a communication limb poised on a thread. Kasfok’s drummed instructions would be translated into electrical impulses and transmitted to the recipient as vibrations of the communication thread. They would all be able to feel his words.

  Not everyone was friendly to him and his web leadership. Kasfok knew that there were quiet vibrations demanding his replacement. No one had yet dared to express this in stronger vibrations, but the number of those who wanted to see a younger Netmaster at the top was increasing. Kasfok was well aware that some Shipmasters sympathized with this view. But now he would take the wind out of his critics’ webs! Under his leadership the greatest possible treasure had been found. He was the savior of the Mendraki and would go down in history as such!

  Just as he was about to give instructions for a collective fleet maneuver, a vibration resonated through the communication thread. The other Shipmasters received it, too.

  The asteroid! drummed remote scout Holmak. It is changing course!

  Kasfok involuntarily emitted a pheromone cloud of surprise. How can an asteroid change course?

  Now it’s heading for the inner planet, which is fiery and incapable of sustaining any life.

  That wasn’t my question! Kasfok rebuked the remote scout. Even though he was afraid of the answer, he repeated his question. How can an asteroid suddenly switch course?

  There must be... Holmak paused as if something in him prevented him from conveying the message. The asteroid is not an asteroid. Or, to drum it more clearly, it is probably a hollowed-out asteroid that has been transformed into a spaceship.

  Netmaster Kasfok knew that this altered their circumstances tremendously. They were not alone in this system!

  44th of Frien, 298

  It is cold up here.

  Kimikizu had taken the wind tunnel to the level just beneath the surface. While it was just as warm inside the hollowed-out asteroid as it was on the home world, she seemed to feel the bitter cold of the cosmic vacuum here. With her inner plumage fluffed out, she scurried through a short corridor leading from the wind tunnel to the hangar. Kimikizu now regretted her hasty decision to volunteer for the adventure. In the roost, she hadn’t been able to keep her eyes shut, even though she had an exciting flight ahead. That was probably the very reason she hadn’t been able to get any sleep.

  She approached a double door and tapped a button with the tip of her wing, watching as the doors swung open. The hangar of the flying machines! She still had vivid memories of the first visit she’d made there, with her elementary school classmates. The machines had seemed huge to her, like steel gods, mainly because each had the shape of an Iks, just many times larger. Thus far, she’d only flown along once during her training, as part of a ship’s tour intended to familiarize the students with the machine’s controls.

  Kimikizu entered the hangar, head tilted toward the ceiling, from where the metal gods looked down on her. It had just so happened that the Iks’ physical form had proven practical. The beak, for example, could accommodate a selection of sensors or weapons systems. The Iks were peaceful, but they had also experienced civil wars. While they now no longer had any external enemies, the Conqueror Caste still had significant influence and promoted weapons development. Kimikizu hoped they would never need them. In any case, the Explorers had assured everyone that there was no alien activity in this system.

  “Here she comes at last, our bride of the wind!”

  Kimikizu directed her beak in the direction of the voice. She recognized a group of Iks in uniform. One of them broke away from the group to approach her. Kimikizu wasn’t sure how to act around him. Bride of the wind. It was only the Navigators, not the Explorers, who used this title to address each other. It wasn’t an explicit insult, but it was unconventional.

  She had already been warned that Explorers tended to behave in ways that challenged their narrow social norms. She guessed that this was how it had to be, flying ahead of the flock and thus spending a lot of time outside the protective community. In the long history of their kind, it had always been the Explorers who had set the course for months of wandering around the home world in search of fertile areas.

  “Welcome to the flock,” he said by way of greeting. He spread his wings and lowered his head.

  Kimikizu responded to the gesture with the traditional reply, “I await directions.”

  The Iks started laughing. “Now let’s cut the ceremonial crap. I’m Norok. Nobody’s giving you any directions here. We’ll be awaiting your directions. You’re the Navigator, after all.”

  Kimikizu was shocked, but tried not to show it. Unconventional! Apparently she hadn’t been adequately warned about the Explorers. What would be next? All that was missing now was Norok trying to fertilize her eggs.

  “I’m Kimikizu,” she said, further lowering her beak.

  “A pleasure,” replied Norok. “We’re not so formal here, but if you want to be addressed by your full name, we’ll honor that. Sorry if I shocked you. I’m Norokamilo, if that’s of any importance to you.”

  “No, that’s fine, Norok,” she said, deliberately swallowing the rest of the name. “I was aware that Explorers are more relaxed.”

  “You’ll see it’s comfortable here with us,” said Norok. “Perhaps we should spend a little more time with the other groups when we’re off-duty so we don’t forget the formalities entirely. You really seem taken aback. I’ll include that in the next meeting.”

  Oh no! Norok was the one to set the topics of the meetings, which meant he was no ordinary Explorer. He had to be the Supreme. She should have fallen to her knees before him!

  “Are you the Supreme Explorer, Norok?”

  The Iks took two steps ahead of her in the group's direction and then turned to face her. “I hope it’s not obvious?” he said amicably. “Formally, you’re correct, but you’ll see that it doesn’t matter much to us, Kimi. Sorry, Kimikizu, of course.”

  “Please call me Kimi while I’m here,” she said spontaneously. Otherwise she would always be the outsider, and that wasn’t what she wanted. She already felt enough of that among the Navigators.

  Kimikizu was still lost in thought as they reached the group. As Norok introduced her, she looked at the Iks who would be on board the flying machine with her. From the beaks in the group, she could tell that there were Iks of all ages. The differently patterned tail feathers, and especially their varied eyes, told her that the Explorers also came from different regions of the home world. She was surprised that they all seemed to get along.

  “Kimi?” the Supreme Explorer addressed her.

  Oh, he must have asked her something. Her lower plumage turned yellow. It was so embarrassing!

  “Sorry, I was preoccupied.”

  The others clattered their
beaks, but it didn’t sound malicious.

  “I asked you to say a few words about yourself.”

  “Of course.” She considered what to say. Norok had already described her function.

  “I’m Kimi. My parents come from the southern mountains,” she began, “but they first met on the ship. I have three sisters and four brothers, all of whom are older than me. In my free time I offer flight lessons. I’m not bad at aerobatics myself. My biggest idol is Kuturamilo.”

  When she mentioned the name, everyone started clattering their beaks enthusiastically. Was it because the second part of the name was the same as the Supreme Explorer’s? Often, it was possible to infer kinship this way.

  “The Explorers worship Kuturamilo,” said Norok. “He significantly advanced flight for the Iks. Did you know he was an Explorer himself?”

  “I thought he was a Conqueror?”

  The others made grinding noises of protest with their beaks. She must have said something wrong.

  “According to the Conquerors, yes,” Norok said. “To be fair, Kuturamilo was initially a Conqueror, but then he joined the Explorers.”

  “I wasn’t aware of that.”

  “No problem. You certainly must have legends about famous Navigators that we don’t know.”

  Kimikizu thought about it. No, there were no such legends, most probably because the Navigators, as a group, hadn’t even existed for 3,000 cycles yet. The profession had only been introduced when it became clear to the Supreme Leaders that the species would have to leave the home world. Apparently 3,000 cycles wasn’t enough time for legends to develop.

  “This isn’t really my area of expertise,” she replied elusively.

  “It doesn’t matter, anyway,” said Norok. “Our giant bird awaits us.”

  With an elegant gesture, he put his right wing around her and led her to the wide staircase at the belly of the flying machine.

  The bird they boarded felt entirely different from the one in which she had performed her test flight. It was far bigger. Kimikizu estimated that it was ten wingspans in both width and height, and at least 150 long. The smell inside was also very different. It was clear that the Explorers spent most of their time in the flying machine. It didn’t have the neutral smell of machine oil, but of everyday life, sometimes unpleasant like sewage, and occasionally pleasant like food and the warmth of sleep.

  Norok led her through the corridors according to a system that left her feeling somewhat lost. They both pattered ahead on their short feet with the others behind them. Gradually she felt uncomfortable constantly being at the head of the group. She calmed herself by remembering that this was a gesture of hospitality, even if it conferred a special position that didn’t correspond to her social status.

  Her feet started to hurt. She missed the wind tunnels. For two or three days she would have to go without spreading her wings and propelling herself up without stopping and, cheating gravity, tumble into the deep. How could the Explorers manage without this experience on a long-term basis?

  “Will we be able to fly on the rock planet?” She asked.

  “No, this planet has no appreciable atmosphere. That’s why it’s not such a loss. So you’ll be needing a flight suit in addition to a breathing mask.”

  Another embarrassment. Of course, she should have known there was no atmosphere on the planet. But the flight suit got her attention. So far, she had only heard of this technology. They looked just like spacesuits, but they also had several jets that worked even outside of atmospheric layers.

  The group stopped at a door. She hadn’t noticed, but now there were only six of them. The other Explorers must have turned off into their assigned stations. Norok identified himself with a voiceprint.

  “Explorer Norok,” he said.

  “Entry granted,” came the automated reply.

  A double door opened and they entered the cockpit. Kimikizu counted six seats, each located in front of computers that were within wing’s reach. There were shiny surfaces angled above the seats, and Kimikizu wasn’t sure if these were windows or screens—probably displays. Windows that did not face forward but rather diagonally and upward didn’t seem very practical to her, but the very suggestion of windows made the whole room appear larger and airier.

  In the middle of the room was a pillar, about as wide as two Iks, and covered all over with flashing lights.

  “Is that an...”

  She didn’t dare say the word.

  “Yes, it’s an Uncertainty Oracle,” said Norok, smiling.

  There were very few of these computers, which operated according to very specific principles of physics. The Iks researchers had developed them just prior to the launch, and there hadn’t been enough time to make more. Their abilities were described as practically limitless, but it was evident to Kimikizu that this view was due to some romanticizing, as was everything related to the home world.

  She couldn’t quite believe that there was no longer anyone around who would be able to recreate such an oracle. The Iks couldn’t have just acquired this ability in a few hundred cycles only to immediately lose it. Who knew what political games determined the fate of the oracles? Perhaps the Supreme Leaders were simply afraid that they would surpass them in intelligence and therefore replace them.

  “Is this your first time seeing an oracle?” Norok asked.

  “Yes,” Kimikizu confessed. “Only the Supreme Navigator can ask our oracle questions. Nobody else has access.”

  “That’s too bad. It’s different with us, as you can see. The Oracle is also happy to answer your questions. It doesn’t do any harm if you ask it. On the contrary, it improves itself.”

  “Thank you, Norok. I will certainly take advantage of this opportunity.”

  “But don’t get your hopes up too high. The Oracle can do the most extensive calculations in a short amount of time, but it is neither omniscient nor omnipotent, and many tasks exceed its capabilities.”

  “Like calculating the flight to the rocky planet?”

  “That’s not a problem for the Uncertainty Oracle.”

  “But the Supreme Navigator said—”

  “You shouldn’t believe everything you’re told.”

  “Then why am I here?”

  “I imagine the Supreme Leaders are interested in what it’s like here. Instead of getting an impression for themselves, they asked your Supreme Navigator to send us someone.”

  “So I’m a spy?”

  “That’s not what I’d call you.” Norok laughed. “You are our guest and we’re happy that you’re here.”

  “But you didn’t request me?”

  “I’m sorry to have to tell you this, but we didn’t request you. I hope that we can nonetheless learn from each other.”

  This Norok was rightly the Supreme Explorer. He was a perfect example of their species—friendly, polite, courteous, confident, and kind. But Kimikizu was still irritated. She had been sent as a spy without being told about it. So it had never been about her skills. She felt used by the Supreme Leaders. There was only one way to get revenge. She would show everyone how vital her skills were to the success of their mission.

  “Spread the wings.”

  “Run forward.”

  “Leap.”

  The automatic system’s statements sounded bizarre when experiencing the launch while strapped to a seat in a flying machine. They harkened back to the old days before there were machines, although they had long since lost their literal meaning. Kimikizu was surprised. Even these oh-so-modern Explorers still kept them. Who had introduced the procedure back then, and when was it?

  She considered running a query, but then she felt a rumbling throughout her entire body. It was coming from the depths of the flying machine. The main engine was gathering power, like a silver tiger preparing to take its murderous leap. On the angled surface above her, which turned out to be a screen, after all, she saw sunlight flooding the hangar of the flying machines. Apparently the departure gate had opened. The machin
e she was in was maneuvered up to the gate on rails. The main engine had gathered enough power. A gigantic catapult would hurl it out of the hatch, and then the engines would be deployed.

  The hatch now appeared from the right, indicating that they would launch soon. Kimikizu thought about her flight exercises. Even if the engine didn’t work, she knew where the flight suits were and could make her way back in an emergency. No, she was not afraid. None of the five other Iks in the cockpit seemed to be worried, either.

  Kimikizu relaxed until she was, without warning, pressed into her seat. She couldn’t breathe, but the tremendous acceleration only weighed on her briefly. Then the spaceship was free. More displays were activated on the left and right. It almost looked as if someone had opened windows there. The flying machine moved forward weightlessly, driven by the momentum of the catapult, through a deep, narrow valley that had been artificially carved into the asteroid before they’d left the home world.

  At its very bottom was the hatch that sealed off the hangar from the outside. Kimikizu realized how naive she had been. She had thought she’d been close to the surface when they were in the hangar, yet there had remained several kilometers of rock between herself and the unforgiving universe. It had been a good idea for the Supreme Leaders to protect their civilization from all dangers with an impenetrable shield.

  “Warning, the engine is about to fire,” warned Norok.

  Then she felt it. The rumbling turned into a powerful vibration. Her inertia pressed her forcefully into the cushions. The acceleration wasn’t as strong as it had been with the catapult, but she’d have to endure it for a longer time. The rock faces on the left and right moved faster and faster across the screens. Suddenly everything went black as they reached free space. The flying machine banked along its trajectory. First the sun wandered onto the screen, so the display had to decrease its brightness, and then a gray, round spot followed.