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Proxima Trilogy: Part 1-3: Hard Science Fiction

Page 33

by Brandon Q Morris


  Marchenko’s imagination constantly tortures him with this worst-case scenario. He has to hurry to prevent it from becoming a reality. If they manage it in 50 days, Adam and Eve will be safe. He has already started recycling their excretions, the way it had been necessary during the long space voyage to Proxima Centauri. Psychologically, Adam and Eve still seem to be in good shape. It might be the force of habit, because they have spent all of their years cooped up together. Eve is definitely the more stable of the two. Adam is often moody and then he takes it out on Eve or Marchenko, who has recently started deliberately offering himself as the target of Adam’s anger by provoking him now and then. Is this a clever idea? Time will tell.

  Now Messenger reports in. Two weeks ago, Marchenko sent the spaceship into a lower orbit. He hoped to receive more accurate data that would tell him more about their destination. The ship has been sending him updates on a regular basis. By now, evaluating the data has become routine. Until today the results had not been exciting.

  “We have news about our destination,” he tells Adam and Eve via radio.

  “Yes?” says Eve’s sleepy voice.

  “We can now determine the size much better, in all dimensions. The change in the gravitational field caused by the object indicates a kind of cylinder.”

  “So it really is a tower?” Adam speculates.

  “Yes, or a gigantic spaceship. Or an exhaust pipe. What we know for certain is that its shape is cylindrical,” Marchenko explains.

  “And how big is it?” Eve asks.

  “It is long and thin, one could say. A diameter under 200 meters and a length of several kilometers. The object seems to be completely stuck inside the ice.”

  “Doesn’t it reach into the ocean?”

  “No, Adam, in its center the ice sheet is at least eight kilometers thick.”

  “And we definitely could not reach the object from below?”

  Adam is asking strange questions. It is obvious what the answer would be. Marchenko remembers Adam voting for going through the water. Maybe Adam is thinking of that.

  “No, we could not reach the object from the bottom of the ocean. Or only with great difficulty.”

  April 7, 19

  His back is itching. Adam is scratching it, but there is one spot he cannot reach. Should he ask Eve? He listens to the eternal night. She is breathing evenly. Eve is probably asleep. He shouldn’t wake her up. It’s actually day now, at least according to the schedule Marchenko brought with him from Earth. Why are we still keeping terrestrial time? he wonders. His body does not seem to be convinced. Each day Adam finds it more difficult to fall asleep at the agreed-upon time and then wake up refreshed in the so-called morning.

  He stands up. It is only now he notices he cannot hear the sound of the runners moving over the ice. The sled has stopped. Adam puts on his jacket and pants, slips on his boots, sets his helmet over his head, and crawls to the tent door. There he looks around. Eve is still sleeping soundly. He envies her slightly. He crawls further toward the outside. It is dark. Adam is surprised and at the same time marvels at his own surprise. Human beings are strange and unpredictable creatures, aren’t we? Or perhaps it is I who am strange, and everyone else is normal?

  He does not want to wake Eve. “Marchenko,” he whispers. No answer.

  He activates the lamp on his helmet and aims the light forward. The glow is soon lost in the darkness. Marchenko is not there. Adam sits on the edge of the sled for a moment and then slips down to the ice. He moves very cautiously. A primal fear has taken hold of him. He is afraid of stepping further onto the ice because it might break. At the same time, he knows that the ice sheet has a thickness of several hundred meters. It is crazy! He is applying experiences from Earth, which he never could have made, to this alien world. This information must be lodged in his genes.

  Gradually, Adam feels safer. Sometimes the ice creaks below his feet. He shudders the first few times this happens, but then he realizes these sounds are meaningless. The ocean is so far below him, utterly inaccessible. He is reminded of Marchenko 2, who right now is on his way to the center of the dark hemisphere. That Marchenko won’t have a chance of reaching the alien object—unless I help him. I have to warn him!

  Adam checks his universal device. The frequencies for reaching Marchenko 2 have not yet been stored into its memory. Yet he has to send a message. Adam shines his helmet lamp in all directions. Marchenko is nowhere to be seen. Adam walks around the sled. When he reaches its back, the blue-white light of his lamp reveals a rough block of ice perhaps 15 meters away. There he could formulate his message without anyone hearing him.

  Adam turns around and scans the area again. No Marchenko. Good. He walks toward the block of ice. He must have misjudged the distance. It is more like 50 meters. The block is huge. How could it have developed here? It looks like someone froze water inside a cube. Adam shines the light of his lamp on the ice. He sees delicate structures that branch as they move further inward and shine in the light. Really pretty, he thinks. I should show this to Eve. But he has to send the message first.

  He walks behind the block so he can no longer see the sled. Then he takes the universal device from his pocket and sets it to the first of the frequencies, or at least he tries to. But this model seems not to be prepared for it. The frequency band he is supposed to use has been deactivated on this device. What now? If he is lucky, he can run a software update.

  Adam turns the device over. There is a service-panel cover on the back. It is obvious it was designed for technicians rather than for normal users. Adam opens the cover and shines his light inside. He sees a primitive circuit board. Something like this might have been mass-produced about a hundred years ago. Such designs are still popular in spaceships because they are quite resistant to radiation and can easily be repaired. That’s his chance.

  Adam launches the service menu of the software and checks the source code. Lucky me! In one spot a module on the circuit board generates a value. The software then uses it to calculate the transmission and reception frequencies. If he removes the module, the value should be cut in half. Then he simply has to double the frequency to get the channel he needs. He works quickly. Soon he is able to close the cover again. The device still works, but now it transmits in the range he needs. What should I tell Marchenko 2?

  “Hello Marchenko,” he dictates out loud. His voice sounds hollow. He hasn’t heard it in a while without the background noise of the sled runners rubbing against the ice. “We have new data from our spaceship. It does not look like the alien object will be accessible from the ocean. Either you turn around, or you can tell me everything I don’t know through this channel. From now on I will check this frequency regularly. I hope to hear from you.” He pushes the send button. This should be enough.

  Just so he won’t forget, he sets his universal device to reception standby mode for the selected frequency. Of course there is the risk that their Marchenko might notice something, but Adam doesn’t think this will happen. He turns around and walks past the edge of the ice block. From here he has to follow a course at a 90-degree angle. He looks ahead. He can’t see anything in the light of the lamp. The sled must be too far away. And it is not illuminated.

  Adam starts walking, looking for the sled to appear in his field of view, but the plain before him remains empty. He has probably gone in the wrong direction. He turns around 180 degrees. There is the block of ice, his reference point. He doesn’t want to make a mistake, so he returns to the cube and then goes away from it at a slightly different angle. He walks 20 meters, 30 meters... and once again finds nothing. The plain has no landmarks and is completely uniform. Adam still refuses to admit it, but he knows that he has made a huge, idiotic mistake. His sister Eve and Marchenko have no idea he is out here. He is breathing heavily. He stomps back to the ice block and tries a different direction. The sled must be somewhere!

  That was a silly thing to do, you dumb shit! he thinks. Marchenko must have come back, taken up the sled,
and started sprinting onward. Marchenko is in a hurry. He wants to reach the destination before his passengers die. While Marchenko has never mentioned this, Adam can do the math. He knows they lost about half of their supplies in the storm. He can imagine what they are lacking. He and Eve would not die of hunger or thirst, nor would they suffocate or freeze to death. Rather, they would succumb to malnutrition after some organ in their body ceased functioning.

  Oh, well. For Adam, this became irrelevant a few minutes ago. Now he will either starve or freeze to death. He has no food with him, and he lacks the technology to make edible organic material from the carbon dioxide in the air and the water in the ice. And the energy required by his heated underwear will eventually fade away. What talents does he really have? He is great at getting himself into dangerous situations, where he has to be rescued by others—not exactly something to be proud of. Adam smashes his fist against the block of ice, spraining his middle finger. “Shit!” he yells, but of course nobody can hear him. He laughs out loud.

  Adam, get a hold of yourself, he tells himself. What are your chances? Marchenko is moving away from you at 20 kilometers per hour. At some point Eve will notice you are no longer lying next to her. If you are lucky, she will search for you outside. Otherwise the sled will move further away. And then? Adam hits his visor with his hand. The helmet radio has a limited range, at most a hundred meters, he would estimate. But he still has the universal device. He should easily reach Marchenko with it.

  He takes it from his pocket, but then remembers he modified it a short while ago. Now it only transmits in frequencies Marchenko does not automatically monitor. That was the purpose of his modification. Where is the module I removed? Perhaps it can be inserted in again? He remembers dropping it. It must be somewhere behind the block of ice.

  Adam kneels down and starts searching. The part he needs is about four millimeters long and one millimeter wide. He can’t find it. He moves around in wider circles. His knees are starting to feel cold. He brushes his gloves across the ice. He can already feel the desperation in a corner of his mind, waiting for his next mistake. He does not yet know what that mistake will be.

  How many other foolish things has he done? What can he expect? This stupid module must be lying here somewhere! Did he accidentally step on it and then move it elsewhere with his boots? Adam sits down and then looks at his boot soles in the light of the helmet lamp. Nothing on the left side. On his right sole he finds a piece of bluish metal in a tiny crack. It must have stuck to the special rubber of the boot when he crushed the module.

  April 7, 19

  Eve opens her eyes. She feels disoriented. A moment ago she was a little girl playing a board game with J the robot. It was a strange dream, because she simultaneously was an adult looking over J’s shoulder. She saw how little Eve snuck one of her opponent’s game pieces and how the robot graciously ignored it. The little girl was happy she had finally won a game.

  Now Eve moves her hand upward. The tarp of the tent is above her. It is cold and slightly damp. That is the moisture she and Adam are sweating off all the time. Eve reaches for the spot next to her. She feels the thin blanket that usually covers Adam, but her sibling is not there. He is probably getting some fresh air outside. Eve is glad, because recently Adam has been spending too much time holed up in the tent. The runners of the sled make a steady crunching sound. Marchenko seems to be making good headway.

  Then she feels the pressure of her bladder. She needs to pee. That always takes some time, as she has to get completely dressed. Marchenko suggested several times they could pee into bags. Eve suspects why he is so intent on capturing all their excretions, particularly the salts concentrated in urine. But she would be too embarrassed relieving herself in front of her brother, or being present when he does it. She would rather get dressed and go outside, even if Marchenko has to stop the sled for a few minutes.

  Eve is going to hurry. Her pants have a flap at the bottom that she can open. Then she will squat behind the sled, and they can go on two minutes later. She certainly does not want to expose any bare skin to the cold much longer than that. If Marchenko’s predictions are right, it will soon be so cold that she won’t be able to relieve herself outside. But until then it is worth the three or four minutes they have to spend on it. Even if, as Adam calculated, the sled would stand still almost three hours during 40 days with two bathroom breaks each, it is still worth it to her.

  After putting on her clothes she crawls on her knees to the exit. The tent flap is not fastened. She pushes the thick tarp aside and feels around for Adam. But there is nothing there. He must have picked a different spot. She turns on her helmet lamp and shines it in all directions. She only sees the tent and the supplies in the sled. Ahead of her she detects Marchenko, who is leaning against the ropes, pulling their vehicle towards its destination with quick steps.

  “Adam,” she calls. No answer. She calls again, and still no answer.

  After her third call, Marchenko turns around and slows down. “Pssst,” he says via helmet radio. “Adam is asleep in the tent.”

  “He is not in the tent. How did you get that idea? I am searching for him out here.”

  “Say that again.”

  “He is not in the tent. Didn’t you hear me?” At that moment Eve realizes what this means. “Shit! Adam is gone! Stop right...”

  Marchenko abruptly stops the sled. Eve slides forward, but he grabs her before she can fall from the sled. One supply container gets past him. He bends down and puts it back in the sled. Why doesn’t he say anything? Eve is surprised. Adam is missing! Adam! Missing! Why is Marchenko so calm?

  “Adam is missing! Adam is missing!” she screams.

  “I can hear you perfectly,” Marchenko says to her. He seems too calm and collected. Where is his agitation, his despair?

  Doesn’t he feel anything? That is not right. It must be the shock. “We have to turn around right away,” she exclaims.

  “Just stay calm. We must not rush things,” Marchenko answers in a deliberately calm tone.

  What the heck? He is treating me like a little girl! I can decide for myself when to stay calm, and right now is not the time for calmness. Adam is gone!

  “I stopped a while ago to check a joint in my right leg. I moved away from the sled so the inevitable noise would not disturb the two of you. You were sleeping so soundly. Adam seems to have left the sled during that time.”

  “I didn’t even notice we stopped.”

  “You were asleep.”

  “How long ago did this happen?”

  “An hour and 38 minutes.”

  “That doesn’t sound like much,” Eve says, hoping for a reassuring reply.

  “Not much is a relative term. I am just checking our route. During that time we covered 30.5 kilometers.”

  “So Adam is standing some 30 kilometers from us on the ice, in utter darkness and all alone?”

  “We have to assume so, Eve.”

  “Perhaps he walked in the direction we were moving? During this length of time he could have walked almost eight kilometers toward us.”

  “Unless he walked away from us. Imagine everyone is gone and you are alone on the ice. Now, which direction was the sled going a moment ago?”

  She looks at Marchenko’s massive robot body and feels tears welling up. I don’t want to cry now, she thinks. No crying. Concentrate.

  “I hope he is smart enough not to move from the spot,” Marchenko says. “Then we really have a chance.”

  “How high?”

  “What?”

  “The chance. How high is the chance that we are going to find him? Please tell me the truth.”

  “We are not following a perfectly straight line, Eve. Now and then I have to move around obstacles. Over a distance of 30 kilometers, this would create a relatively wide corridor.”

  “But you know where you stopped.”

  “I remember an unusual block of ice there. I tried to develop a theory about how it might have come into
being. But I don’t know the precise location itself. Here there is no positioning system supported by satellites orbiting the planet. I have to rely on the compass and the rangefinder.”

  “What about two-way radio?”

  “I have been sending messages to him the whole time, but he does not react. Either his universal device is broken, or Adam is unable to answer.”

  “And the helmet radio?”

  “That will only work once we get close to his location. Its range is very limited.”

  Eve thinks about this. Is there anything we have overlooked? “Could Messenger help us? Could it search for Adam?”

  “From orbit? Not a chance. Its cameras are not precise enough for that.”

  Eve’s visor fogs up. She has to return to the tent. She can’t help out here anyway. She sighs out loud.

  “We have to find him,” she says. “We simply have to!”

  “We will,” Marchenko replies while turning the sled around. Thirty seconds later they are racing across the ice, in the direction from which they had come.

  April 7, 19

  I feel like slapping myself. It is my fault that Adam is gone. I should have made sure, should have looked into the tent to see whether he was still as soundly asleep as before! I neglected my duty. I should be turned off, because I am a worthless piece of metal with a dimwitted mind, and I should suffer death by being melted down! How could this happen? I think.

 

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