“I prefer mobility,” I reply, “and I am a bit overprotective where the kids are concerned. You know how it is. I can’t leave them alone.”
The other Marchenko laughs and opens the airlock chamber. It is not large enough for the three of us, so I let Adam and Eve go in first, since I do not mind the icy-cold water as much. I cannot suppress a feeling of unease, however, as the door closes behind them. What if the other Marchenko simply locks me out of the station? But then again, what reason would he have to do that? We should be glad we found each other. Six have a better chance of survival than three. Where there is a second Marchenko—‘Marchenko 2’ I decide to call him, as my sanity demands I be number 1—surely Adam 2 and Eve 2 cannot be far away.
The airlock stays closed, longer than technically necessary. I am getting more nervous, but then the door opens.
“Sorry for making you wait, but the system is used so rarely that it sometimes doesn’t work properly,” Marchenko 2 says apologetically.
I pull my heavy body into the airlock and then push the close button on the inside. The water is pumped out and replaced by air. I automatically measure the oxygen content: 17 percent, more than Adam and Eve need.
The two of them are waiting for me directly outside the chamber.
“They absolutely insisted on waiting for you,” Marchenko 2 says with a slightly mocking tone. “They seem to be a bit timid. Would you now please come to the control room?”
We walk side by side through the corridor that is eight-meters wide and obviously built by fabricators. Only fabricators can create such seamless structures from any available materials. Everything still smells brand new, as if it had just now been made for us. The only thing the builder skimped on is lighting, which consists of just two fluorescent strips. I believe I can detect the fluorescence molecules of the mushrooms.
A door opens as soon as we approach the end of the corridor, and we arrive in a large, brightly lit circular room.
“Welcome to our home,” says my voice, which in this case does not belong to me. “Make yourselves comfortable here.” There are two pilot seats. Even as he speaks, they are automatically turning into couches.
“Aren’t those Adam and Eve’s seats?” Eve asks. She must also be assuming that Marchenko 2 hardly arrived here alone.
Surprised, Marchenko 2 asks, “How do you know their names?”
I am startled every time I hear my own voice speaking sentences I did not form in my own mind.
“I think the Creator has predetermined all of our names. You also call yourself Marchenko.”
“Because I am Marchenko,” the other one says.
“Are you sure?” Eve asks. “The Creator might have manipulated your memory. It would only take a few storage locations.”
The other one laughs and says, “Marchenko, your little girl is really cute. But to answer her question: Adam and Eve are usually sleeping upstairs. They just aren’t here today.”
As if on cue, a round hatch opens in the ceiling and a ladder descends.
“You two youngsters can see this for yourselves,” Marchenko 2 offers. “And of course you are invited into the main computer, Marchenko. I don’t even want to imagine how long you’ve had to manage without a quantum computer. Messenger certainly has enough resources.”
The idea of using a quantum computer is practically electrifying for me. I have almost forgotten what a great feeling it is to produce new knowledge in next to no time, to draw conclusions more quickly than all of mankind, all those ten billion humans combined, could do it. Well, unfortunately, I had not completely forgotten that feeling. I would very much like to accept the invitation, but something keeps me from it. ‘A robot with a gut feeling,’ Adam would say, laughing about me.
Both Adam and Eve already feel right at home here. It’s no wonder, since the similarities to our Messenger are uncanny. They are lounging on their couches, zapping through the entertainment program they’ve had to do without for almost two months. In a way, this is the ‘quantum computer experience’ for humans.
“I am going to stay mobile for a while longer,” I say. “Later I will have to tuck the kids in bed. What about your own Adam and Eve?”
“They are currently on an excursion, as they call it,” Marchenko 2 replies. “We believe we might have discovered the source of the radio message.”
“Where is it?” I ask.
“Here in the ocean, not far away. Less than half a day from here.”
“And you let them go all by themselves?”
“Well, you have to trust in them at some point,” Marchenko 2 says. “They are over 18 years old now.”
My Adam and Eve are two years younger. Accordingly, this Marchenko must have started his voyage two years earlier, or he was awakened sooner.
“The signal,” I say. “I definitely have to take a look at it.”
“I’ll send you the coordinates,” Marchenko 2 says, seeming sincere.
I compare the data with the bearing I detected during my trip to the leaf canopy. They match, within the limits of my measurement precision.
“You could check on it tomorrow and see for yourself,” Marchenko 2 suggests. “That would be alright with me, as you could then accompany my Eve and my Adam back here. Are you still living according to Earth time? We are used to it here, even though no sunlight reaches us through the water. Accordingly, it is 11 p.m. now. My bedtime. An old man needs his routine.” He laughs in a booming voice, which really is mine, and then he disconnects.
“Are you okay?” I ask Adam.
Adam raises his thumb. Somewhere he found something that resembles potato chips. Eve laughs at some scene on her private monitor. I need neither food nor comfort. I roll J’s body to a spot near the door and consider some interesting questions: What does this new situation mean for all of us? Marchenko 2 somehow managed to bring his entire spaceship down here. Could this help us in the future? Would it be worthwhile to fly after the former inhabitants of this planet?
February 13, 19
“Marchenko, please come in.” It is Adam’s voice that sounds in the central module, even though Adam was lying quietly asleep on his couch just a moment ago.
“This is Marchenko. What’s up?”
My voice answers, even though I did not utter anything. In the long run, these duplications will confuse me to no end. We will have to do something about it if we are to stay together for a longer time. It should not be a problem to change my voice to no longer match the voice of Marchenko 2.
“We found something,” the other Adam says. “But we can’t get it open. I’m sorry, but you will have to get yourself here.”
“There is some news you two are not aware of,” my alter ego says.
He hasn’t told them about us yet?
“I wanted it to be a surprise,” Marchenko 2 explains. “Yesterday, a second Messenger team arrived. A different Marchenko is already planning to visit you out there. He is more mobile than I am, and is currently located within J, the robot. I am sending him over there right now!”
“That’s fine, Marchenko,” the other Adam says. “We are looking forward to meeting your twin. Adam, out.”
“You heard it,” Marchenko 2 says to me. “So it would be nice if you could head out soon.”
“By the way, how are the two able to stay so long in the cold ocean?” I ask.
“They took along an inflatable dome and lots of oxygen,” he replies. “I think they just wanted to get out of here and be independent for once. You know how it is.”
My robot head nods.
“And as I mentioned, the quantum computer invite still stands.”
“Once I get back,” I say.
I say goodbye to Adam and Eve. I don’t think the two of them will miss me very much. Then I head toward the airlock. It will not be necessary for me to have a lengthy preparation period, because my steel body has no problem with the high pressure on the bottom of the ocean. My destination is about three hours away by speedy walking, and Mar
chenko 2 has sent me a detailed map of the ocean-floor environment.
I leave the airlock chamber and slowly sink to the bottom. If I were completely dependent on eyes, the impenetrable darkness might frighten me, but there is plenty of light in other areas of the spectrum. The landed Messenger practically glows because it gives off so much energy. It looks a little like a fairytale castle that has been transported to an enchanted land. It is readily apparent it does not belong here.
My software projects the planned course over an image of my environment. The overlay feels real, just as if somebody put up signposts at the edge of my field of vision. The ground has slight waves, but my path slowly leads me deeper. I am making good progress. Even though the pressure down here is high, I am moving in long leaps, as if in zero gravity. Now and then I step on the hair plants common here, which gain energy from currents. There are only a few very small varieties of mushrooms, probably due to the water above us shielding so much of the light.
I remember an old folksong about a miller who liked to wander around, and the tune reverberates through my consciousness. It feels good knowing Adam and Eve are safe. Today, I am only responsible for myself. I look around. The landscape is surprisingly boring. Due to the strong magnetic field that requires a partially liquid mantle, I would have expected more geological activity, but I only see a wavy semi-desert stretching across many kilometers. Without the water above me, it might as well be the Sahara on Earth.
The fact that this sea is not teeming with life like the oceans on Earth is certainly related to its location at the edge of the inhabitable hemisphere. Life always depends on its sun, and existence in a realm of eternal twilight leaves less room for evolution. Perhaps it was high time the inhabitants of this planet had started looking for a new home. Will Earth reach this point at some time? A long time ago, when I was still human, it seemed questionable whether the planet’s environmental degradation could be curbed.
Now the automatic system alerts me that an energy source has been detected on the horizon. This must be my destination. What might Adam and Eve 2 have found there? Is this really the transmitter that led us to this planet? During the last meters, the gravitational force rises immeasurably.
“Adam, please come in,” I radio to the other Adam and Eve. I really do not want to frighten them. For them, the darkness of their surroundings must be impenetrable. If suddenly a robot emerged from the shadows...
I do not get a reply.
“Adam, Eve, I will be there in a moment,” I say.
The radio channel stays silent.
I radio back to my alter-ego, “Marchenko, did you receive any message from Adam and Eve?”
My question to Marchenko 2 also goes unanswered. This can only mean my radio module must be faulty. I try again to reach the landed Messenger, but no one replies.
Shit! Now of all times. But it is not a disaster. I will reach the signal source in ten minutes, and there I should be somehow able to communicate with Adam and Eve 2. They know I am on the way and will be able to handle a bit of a shock when I suddenly stand in front of them.
Didn’t Marchenko 2 say they had an inflatable dome? I am scanning the area for a slight rise but am unable to locate one. The signal source is emitting too much energy for me to detect its precise shape. Perhaps its emissions mask the habitat dome, or Adam and Eve 2 have already dismantled it to start on the return trip with me.
Another 100 meters. Now I recognize what Adam and Eve 2 found. It is beautiful, a work of art. A slender and elegant pylon rises above a seemingly-fragile transparent dish with a diameter of at least 15 meters. At the same time, spheres float around the mast at distances representing a geometric progression.
I take a closer look. The spheres measure almost a meter and they really float, as there is nothing visibly holding them. I also do not detect a forcefield surrounding any of the individual spheres. Therefore, their density is adjusted precisely to that of the surrounding water, so that their buoyancy is equal to their mass. Considering that water density changes with the temperature, there must be an active process inside the spheres to balance that. An exciting technology! We could use it to construct airships that automatically stay at a certain altitude.
I cannot determine if the spheres fulfill a specific function. The dish and the pylon clearly form a transmitter, as I can measure energy emissions at many wavelengths. The transmitter basically seems to be active, but it is not sending a signal. It cannot have been built by humans, because the technology is completely alien. Was it constructed by the beings that took off from the spaceport millennia ago? And why did they call us now, and not back then?
I look around. There is something wrong here. Where are Adam and Eve 2? What am I supposed to open for Adam? I cannot find anything that needs to be opened. Did they endanger themselves by trying to manipulate alien technology?
“Adam, please come in, where are you?” I radio again.
A dark lump separates itself from the ground below me. It is an ISU, and the automatic system classifies it as non-threatening. Yet, it is also not one of the sensor units that I had sent out.
Then a sudden impulse hits me. It is an electrical field, the same weapon I used to deactivate the torpedo, the sensor informs me before it fails. Things go dark around me. I can neither see anything nor move anymore. I am locked inside my hardened memory modules.
February 14, 19
“Adam, wake up!” Eve stands next to his couch and shakes his shoulder.
Jolted out of his sleep, he asks groggily, “What’s going on?” He looks at his watch. “It’s four o’clock! What do you want?” He sees Eve frowning and realizes she is very worried.
“Marchenko is still not back!” she exclaims.
“He is probably glad to be rid of us for a while and is exploring the signal source to his heart’s delight.”
“I am sure he would have contacted us.”
“We will just ask Marchenko 2 and then we’ll know.”
“No, Adam. I don’t trust him. I don’t know why, but I don’t.”
Adam sits up and thinks, Eve and her strange intuitions.
“This can’t go on,” he says, “we need some facts. Let’s look over their room once more.” He points upward, and Eve’s gaze follows his index finger. There is the hatch that Marchenko 2 mentioned yesterday.
“Computer,” Eve says.
“No, don’t. Otherwise Marchenko 2 will notice what we are up to,” Adam says. “I am sure we can open the hatch manually.”
He looks around. There is a handle next to the hatch, and it might be enough if he pulls on it. However, the handle is at a height of three meters. If they push the table from the wall to the middle of the room and he stands on it and lifts Eve upward, it should work. He describes his plan to Eve. One minute later the hatch opens and the ladder slides down. Both of them jump from the table and slide it to the side to make room for the ladder.
“Let’s go,” Adam says.
“Are we allowed to do this?” Eve asks.
“Marchenko 2 invited us, don’t you remember?”
Adam climbs up first. They enter a chamber with a dome-shaped roof that is considerably lower than the ceiling of the command module below them. Couches are to the right and left, neatly covered with bed linens. There are two monitors, both turned off, and also two chests that probably store the other Adam and Eve’s personal belongings. Adam tries to open one of them, but it has a code lock.
“Come on, help me,” he says. Eve bends down and looks at the lock. It has a keypad for entering numbers. She pushes the 1, then 2, 3, and 4. Nothing happens. Then Eve tries the combination 0-0-0-0, and the lock opens.
“Wow, cool!” Adam says. He lifts the lid of the chest. It even has a built-in light. He sees a single screw at the bottom. Otherwise, the chest is empty. He goes to the other chest, which is also locked.
“I don’t think we have to open it,” Eve says, and he agrees with her. They have seen enough.
“Marchenko
to base.” Marchenko’s voice sounds from the loudspeaker in the command module. The two of them hurry down. Marchenko 2 is already answering.
“This is the base,” he says, “what took you so long?”
Marchenko is coming back, Adam thinks. He is relieved and at the same time surprised about this feeling. Adam smiles at Eve, but she does not smile back.
“Something is wrong here,” she whispers to him. “We only can talk about it with our Marchenko when he is actually standing in front of us.”
Adam feels unsure. At first he assumes Marchenko will solve the problem, but then he starts feeling doubts.
“There were a few problems here,” they hear the voice from the loudspeaker, “but I managed to solve them.”
“What about Adam and Eve?” the Marchenko 2 asks.
“They wanted to stay out here a little longer.”
“Didn’t you tell them we have guests?”
“You know what they are like, always following their own ideas,” says Marchenko, then utters a booming laugh over the radio. To Adam’s ears, it sounds labored and fake.
But half an hour later Marchenko actually comes out of the airlock, while Adam watches him closely. There is no doubt it is J’s body from which the last drops of seawater are dripping, forming a small puddle underneath.
“And what did you find?” Adam asks.
“There is a transmitter, just as I thought,” Marchenko replies. “But it is no longer active.”
“What was the other Adam trying to open?”
“He wanted to repair the power supply and suspected it was located in the pedestal. But that is made of solid metal and can’t be opened.”
“Next time you should take us with you,” Eve interjects. “I definitely want to practice using my gills.”
“Did you say gills?” Marchenko says, hesitating for a moment. “Yes, sure. You can practice with your gills.”
Proxima Trilogy: Part 1-3: Hard Science Fiction Page 23