Proxima Dreaming

by Brandon Q Morris

  The acceleration, which must be almost twice Earth’s gravity, pushes Adam strongly against the net. He knows that Marchenko has calculated and simulated every detail. The net is supposed to be sturdy enough to hold him. But what if it isn’t? He cannot completely suppress this thought. If he slips through the mesh, the others will see him burn up like a meteorite. He is breathing faster.

  “Adam, are you alright?” Eve must have noticed something.

  “Yes, I am fine.”

  “I am also scared of the net breaking. The threads are so thin. You remember that spider in the forest?”

  Adam realizes Eve wants to distract him. And it is already working. He remembers how he fell into that pit, out of sheer stupidity. Eve had actually warned him. He laughs. “I was pretty stupid then.”

  “Sometimes,” Eve says.

  “Adam, Eve,” Gronolf says.

  Adam turns around. The sun is rising in the South. It moves very slowly above the horizon. Its light spreads dramatically across the entire hemisphere, as if somebody were rapidly lighting one candle after the other. They are leaving the dark side.

  “There, I can see it,” Eve shouts, full of excitement.

  Adam is just as glad. Messenger has successfully pulled in her catch.

  Adam yawns. He has had enough for today. Someone is pulling on his harness. The outer hatch is opening. Gronolf wants Eve to go first, but she refuses. Adam also insists on Gronolf entering Messenger first. The chamber is too small for all three of them. They would have never made it this far without Gronolf.

  Ten minutes later the two humans have also boarded Messenger. They greet Marchenko’s body with a hug. It feels strange for Adam, because he knows that Marchenko is inside the ship computer again. Previously, they only called the robot body ‘J.’ Perhaps they should switch to that again.

  “Make yourself comfortable,” Marchenko says through the loudspeaker. “We have a long journey ahead of us.”

  May 19, 19, Eve

  Eve is lying on her comfortable couch, which Marchenko designed according to the pattern of Messenger’s pilot seats. The Majestic Draght has been on course out of the Proxima Centauri system for several hours. The ship is accelerating with approximately 1.3 g. Eve doesn’t really mind, because she is used to it from Proxima b. The Majestic Draght seems strange to her, not at all like a spaceship, even though she is zooming through the infinite reaches of space in it. It will reach speeds that would be unthinkable for human spaceships. The dark matter drive allows for this. Marchenko estimates that researchers on Earth will need at least 20 years to understand completely how it functions.

  She misses windows, portholes, a view. Of course there can’t be a view, because they are somewhere inside the ship, in one of the countless sectors. She can only watch on her screen how the Majestic Draght moves away from the ecliptic plane in which Proxima b orbits its sun. It will be a long journey, as Marchenko has announced several times. They will hardly see him, because he will try to repair the Omniscience. He himself would not use that term, as he sees himself more as a psychotherapist for the alien AI. No matter what one calls it, if Gronolf’s species wants to travel with the Majestic Draght in the future, the ship will need a functional Omniscience. After all, Marchenko can’t stay on board forever, can he?

  How will she make it through the coming months? Eve should be used to long voyages. After all, she grew up during one. Yet she still worries. At some point they will have explored the whole ship, in spite of its size. And it is boring to spend all day learning the aliens’ language. Eve shakes her head. She could finally start drafting the novel that has been going through her mind for a long time.

  Brightnight 7, 3878

  “Welcome!”

  By tradition the leadership speaks the first word. The first Grosnop delegation came on board 10 minutes ago. They had been flying toward them in a small ship. What an honor!

  “I thank you,” Gronolf says. The voice that greeted him seems familiar. It belongs to a female, which already represents a revolution.

  “I thank you,” she says, and Gronolf starts to tremble, because a channel of his memory has opened. He desperately tries to suppress the memory, but he fails.

  ‘Thank you for your companionship.’ Those had been Murnaka’s last words, an incredibly long time ago. And now she is standing in front of him. She has grown older by a few cycles. Biologically speaking she now might even be older than he is. Yet the voice is unchanged. He does not know what to say, so he remains silent. He really must get hold of himself.

  Somehow he survived the ceremony. They had awarded him a medal and promoted him to general. Now he is finally alone in his cabin again. After such a long time in space, the presence of other Grosnops seems stressful. He sits on the sleeping beam and takes the case out of the locker. He had always carried it with him in his exterior stomach pouch. A small bump formed on his skin where he used to hide it. Gronolf is not angry about it, quite the opposite—now he only needs to place a hand on the stomach pouch to feel Murnaka’s presence.

  There is a knock on his cabin door. The noise is so loud a human can’t have made it.

  April 15, 21, Adam

  “You can unbuckle your safety belts now.”

  Thanks, Marchenko, for stating the obvious. Even from afar—Marchenko still remains on the Majestic Draght—the AI can’t help giving such advice. Adam unbuckles his belt. The shuttle, they were told, would land in a recreational area near the capital city. He hears the clicking of Eve’s belt alongside him.

  Until now they had only seen Dual Sun, the planet of the Grosnops, from orbit. It must be a fertile planet, with billowy seas and green continents. There seem to be no high mountains. The very best aspect, they say, is that it has two suns. Right now it is brightnight, the season when both suns are visible in the sky. This should be the best time to recover in the recreational area, which carries the promising name Slime Swamps. There would also be a big surprise for them, the Grosnops had explained in perfect English.

  Even Marchenko was surprised how quickly the locals had been able to learn this human language. Had Gronolf sent data via radio to his home planet?

  Suddenly there is a blinding light. Somebody opened the door of the shuttle from outside. Together with the light, the scent of the planet enters the ship. It is a sweet smell, slightly reminiscent of decay. And of fish, but Adam already suspected this, because during the long journey Gronolf had raved about the extensive ichthyofauna of his planet.

  He gets up and walks toward the exit. Eve follows him. The pilot is nowhere to be seen. They had been told he speaks no English.

  Somebody placed a gangway against the exit. Adam can see broad-bodied Grosnops walking away, presumably the ones who had put it there. They probably don’t speak English either.

  Adam looks around at Eve. She nods. ‘Okay,’ she signals. He steps out of the shuttle. The first thing he notices is the humid heat. He starts to sweat immediately. In front of him is an area which looks like a neatly trimmed meadow sporting a bilious green color. Adam is careful about not jumping to conclusions. What looks like grass might be something completely different here. At a distance of about 50 meters, some plants as tall as a man are visible, a kind of forest. Their leaves display a different, more yellowish-green compared to the meadow. A swath has been cut through the forest, ending at a body of water.

  His eyes turn upward. The sky is verdant green. It is amazing, because it looks so inviting. He would like to be a bird and rise into the air. Perhaps this was why the Grosnops built spaceships before they invented other technologies.

  Adam searches for the suns. They are not far from each other. One, called Mother Sun, is yellowish, the other, Father Sun, burns hotter and white, but it is farther away and therefore appears much smaller in the sky.

  Eve taps on his shoulder. “Could that be the ocean?” She points at the swath through the forest.

  “No, it is an inland lake.” The answer comes from the left. It is spoken in p
erfect English. It is a man’s voice. A biped walks around the ship. That is no Grosnop.

  Adam takes on a defensive stance.

  “I am sorry,” the voice says. “I did not want to frighten you.”

  “Adam?”

  Adam turns to Eve, but she has not addressed him, but the other one. Now he realizes it. The human looks just like him. He is meeting his identical twin, even though it does not feel that way at all. Shouldn’t the other man seem to him like an old acquaintance, or even his mirror image?

  “Yes, that’s what Marchenko called me.”

  This is a nightmare. Now the story of Marchenko 2 is starting all over again. Adam feels a shiver run down his spine.

  “Your... father... is also named Marchenko?” Eve asks.

  Doesn’t she realize what is going on here? Somehow Marchenko 2 has managed to arrive before them.

  “Eve, watch what you are saying,” he whispers to his sister.

  She looks at him dumbfounded. “What’s wrong with you?” Eve places a hand on his shoulder. “The Creator obviously sent a Messenger spaceship to Alpha Centauri as well,” she says cheerfully, “with another Marchenko and two clones of us on board.”

  “That’s exactly it,” he hears Eve’s voice say, but it comes from the wrong direction. “Funny that your ship is also called Messenger.”

  Now the woman appears from behind the other Adam. She bears an amazing resemblance to his Eve, but her hair is longer and her clothes are totally different.

  “How... how long have you been here?” Adam still can’t believe Marchenko 2 has nothing to do with this.

  “We landed ten months ago. The locals helped us a lot from the very beginning, even though there were some misunderstandings.”

  Adam calculates back. The impostor from Proxima b could not have arrived here so quickly. That is, if the date is correct, and he is going to find that out.

  “Well, then the coming years won’t be quite so boring,” his Eve says.

  “We are so glad,” the other woman says. “May we invite you to our house? We are curious to hear your story, and our Marchenko is also looking forward to seeing you. Barnar, our local adviser, told us you come from the neighboring star, Single Sun. That would be Proxima Centauri, right?”

  June 16, 21, Marchenko

  He finds Adam in the classroom. Adam greets him a bit gruffly. He knows he should have rather called in the afternoon, but by then he might once again lack the strength. It took Marchenko a long time to gather the strength to make it through today’s conversation.

  “Adam, can you visit me today at the spaceport?”

  “Sure. With the other two?”

  “No, just Eve and you.”

  “Is something wrong? You sound depressed.”

  “No, I just want to tell you something. Come for afternoon tea.”

  The afternoon tea developed from a tradition of the Grosnops, who drink a brew made of swamp grasses one hour before sunset. For humans, that concoction inevitably leads to stomach cramps, but Marchenko developed a different drink. This ‘tea’ is palatable to humans, though Grosnops find it flavorless.

  Whenever Adam and Eve are near the fleet command center on the spaceport, meaning to or three times a week, they visit him and have tea. Marchenko is busy examining the Omniscience. He hopes to find the source of the error that caused the malfunction. At first he told himself he was working so intensely in order to help their hosts. After all, there is one big task left—bringing back the remaining sleepers from Proxima b. By now, however, he knows he has other reasons. The cosmos is calling him. The Majestic Draght, which orbits Dual Sun, is perfect for this.

  For this special occasion, Marchenko has switched to the body of the robot. In this shape, he set the little table. He has three teacups and saucers that he synthesized himself. The tea is bubbling in a self-heating teapot manufactured by Grosnops.

  Adam and Eve are punctual.

  “What’s up?” Adam asks right away.

  Eve first hands Marchenko a bouquet of flowers. These are not flowers like on Earth, because plants do not need colorful blossoms here to attract pollinating insects, but they still look interesting. The locals like to decorate their homes with different shapes instead of colors.

  Marchenko puts the bouquet in an empty vase. He does not have to add water, because the humidity is so high that the plants get enough moisture via their leaves. “I am glad you are here,” he finally says.

  “Thank you for the invitation,” Adam replies formally. He walks to the low table and kneels down in front of it, then sits on the floor. Eve and Marchenko follow suit.

  Once all are seated, each one pours tea for the neighboring person. Nobody says anything. Marchenko puts the cup to his mouth but doesn’t drink. He did not give the robot body a sense of taste. What he likes about tea time is mostly the ritual. They sit around a table and alternate in raising and lowering cups filled with a hot liquid. It is almost like a slow ballet.

  “Well,” says Marchenko after at least Eve has finished drinking her tea.

  “How is it going with the Omniscience?” Adam asks.

  “That would be my first piece of news. I think I have achieved a breakthrough. The Omniscience lets me touch its code.”

  This cost him a lot of persuading. Up to now the Omniscience had behaved like a human with a dangerous tumor, who stubbornly rejects any examination. Without the permission of the Omniscience he could not enter the data levels, which are encrypted in multiple ways.

  “That is fantastic,” Eve says, “so there is still hope. How did you manage it?”

  If he only knew exactly! Sometimes he thinks he just exhausted the Omniscience, while at other times he assumes he used convincing arguments. “I'm not sure,” he admits.

  “You talked it to death,” Adam says, laughing. His face is starting to look more relaxed, too.

  “Maybe.”

  “So what?” Eve says. “It’s the success that counts.”

  “The leadership group is also very happy about it. However, they don’t want to postpone the rescue mission any further. Their doctors calculated that for every month we delay getting there, about ten more sleepers will die.”

  “It is understandable that they would put you under pressure,” Eve says.

  “However, as the Omniscience is not yet ready for action—”

  “They asked you, right?” Adam interrupts.

  “Yes, they did.”

  “And you agreed?” Eve’s question sounds as if she is afraid of the answer.

  “You are well taken care of here. This Marchenko can provide you with everything, you have nice companions—”

  “Why doesn’t this Marchenko go on the flight? Doesn’t he have your abilities?” Eve says, standing up and stretching her legs.

  “He lacks the experience in steering the Majestic Draght that I gathered during the long flight here,” says their Marchenko.

  “Can’t you transfer the experience to him?”

  “Experiences are different from factual knowledge. They are intrinsically tied to my consciousness.”

  “You cannot go on that flight,” Eve says aloud. She walks to the exit, but turns around again. “Adam, what do you have to say?”

  “Just look at him,” Adam replies. “He made up his mind long ago.”

  “I have to help. I owe that to them. After all, they rescued us.”

  “Is that all this is about?”

  “Well, Adam...” Marchenko is pondering. His son is right. He has to be honest. “It is also about research, about knowledge, about experience. I cannot stay forever in one place or in one body. I have this chance and must use it. I will be back, no later than four years from now.”

  “And then you will take us with you, Marchenko, to wherever you might be traveling.”

  “I promise.”

  June 25, 21, Eve

  The news program shows the elected government saying goodbye to the leadership group of the Majestic Draght. Eve is proud
she recognizes Gronolf among all the other aliens, who initially had all looked the same to her. The image is flickering slightly. The reason is that the new Marchenko modified one of the Grosnop ultrasound projectors for them. The technology is not 100 percent compatible with the human visual system.

  The old Marchenko, as they call their father for the sake of simplicity, said his personal goodbye to them yesterday. Now he is somewhere inside the giant black cube which is still orbiting Dual Sun.

  “Are you watching TV again?” Adam says as he comes through the door. He is splattered with mud and is only wearing underpants. Eve still cannot acquire a taste for their hosts’ hobby of holding mud races, but Adam seems to have a small group of fans in this respect. For reasons of fairness he runs in his own weight class, against those under ten years old. The spectators are thrilled, and two of his races have already been shown on Grosnop television.

  Every other evening they meet the other pair of siblings for dinner, sometimes in one house, sometimes in the other—and it is very practical that the buildings are right next to each other. Then Adam is always especially nice to her. Eve suspects this is caused by the fact that the other Adam is also extremely friendly to her. That’s going to be a ton of fun, she thinks.

  “Look, it’s about to start,” Adam shouts. He has dragged a trail of mud into the living room. He will have to clean that up later. The moving image on the wall shows a small spaceship separating from the Majestic Draght.

  “That’s the government ship, as any kid here knows,” Adam says. Eve is not sure what he means by that.

  The camera view changes to the engine core of the Majestic Draght. Eve has to swallow hard. She has already cried enough, but this seems to be the moment everything has been aiming toward. This time she won’t accidentally rediscover her Marchenko. If everything works out he will return in many months. Four years, he told them. He will have changed by then, and she won’t be the same either. She hopes those will be good changes. They saw with Marchenko 2 that humans, as well as AIs that used to be humans, can develop negatively.