Proxima Trilogy: Part 1-3: Hard Science Fiction

by Brandon Q Morris

  The distance. Right. That is an issue I must focus on. On my way here I covered several kilometers, first voluntarily, then involuntarily. At least that’s what the data from my atomic clock and my acceleration sensor tell me. That does not at all fit the image of this building we gained from gravity measurements. Where is the catch?

  To be on the safe side, I run a diagnostic program for my sensors. They are working flawlessly. Acceleration and time have been recorded precisely. Newton could have readily used this to calculate the distance covered. So if my sensors work correctly, but the result is still wrong, shouldn’t this be a problem for Newton? His motion equations no longer work when one gets into the area of the theory of general relativity. Yet this is absolutely impossible for the distances and speeds we are talking about. Or is it?

  Not if a ‘singularity’—something that distorts space and falsifies measurements—is involved. I barely dare to think this, as the idea seems so crazy. Physicists hate singularities, because these take them to the limits of their theories. When I think of a singularity, I imagine a huge, all-devouring black hole, but I know quite well that is only a cliché. A singularity develops when the density of mass exceeds a critical value. In the case of the typical black hole, there is a singularity at its core equal to the mass of several suns—or even thousands of them. This is not necessary here, though, as the decisive factor is the density, not the mass.

  Of course it helps to gather a lot of mass in one place if you want to create a singularity. I remember the irregularities of our gravitational measurements taken from orbit. A large concentration of mass would explain the measured deviations, which I had considered measurement errors until now. An even crazier idea tentatively reports in. I let the thought come forward. What if the extraterrestrials use a singularity as an eternal source of energy? At the limits of normal reality—the event horizon—pairs of particles constantly emerge from nothingness. Normally they extinguish each other in a very short time, in order to pay the energy debt to the universe. Yet when one of the particles ends up on the wrong side of the event horizon, it has no chance of finding its partner out there. That partner is suddenly available as energy that comes from nothingness.

  Right now, my imagination seems to be running wild. The technical control of a singularity would be an enormous feat. After all, it has the constant tendency to grow larger. Whatever enters its radius of influence will be swallowed. Therefore it would have to be perfectly insulated so that the whole planet won’t disappear into its gaping mouth. On the other hand, this might explain the odd distance measurements. A singularity bends space so that everything in it, even light, adapts to its structure. What I perceived as a straight line might in reality have been a loop, curving several times, leading me around the singularity into the lowest level of the building. That would be incredibly fascinating! Mankind is still millennia away from controlling forces of nature this way.

  Therefore, it is also rather likely that my ideas are pure speculation. In practical terms it does not matter. It does not change my most urgent goal of finding Eve as quickly as possible.

  Another microprobe approaches. It brings data from the surface of the water. The probe discovered 17 openings in the dome of the container. None of them are closed with grates. However, to reach them I would have to be able to jump up seven meters. Or fly.

  May 5, 19

  Eve’s stomach is growling. She finally feels hungry again. Yet she needs to reduce her intake to 800 calories per day in order to survive a few days longer. Her body does not like that. She places her hands on her belly to calm it down. She almost started talking to her body parts. She has to get up and move around.

  The dead extraterrestrial is still sitting across from her. She walks around its chair and looks at the creature from all sides. What brought about its death? Somehow the alien looks content, she thinks. She knows nothing about it or its species, but there appears to be some basic empathy. Perhaps this is wishful thinking. Who would not want to die with a happy smile on his face? The next visitor here will find the corpses of a human and a giant frog in one room. Eve smiles at the idea of how confusing this will be for an observer. How long will it take before someone else arrives here? A hundred years? A thousand? How quickly does a corpse turn into dust?

  “Can you tell me anything about the alien’s cause of death, ISU 2?”

  “I am not equipped for that.”

  Eve nods. Marchenko certainly would have been able to tell her more. He would have X-rayed the alien, developed a model of its biology, and then arrived at reasoned conjectures about the cause of death.

  “It doesn’t have any visible injuries,” she says. The alien she had moved from its hibernation chamber had looked much worse. The extraterrestrial in front of her appeared as if it would wake up refreshed from a long slumber once you put it in a tub full of water.

  “I lack any material for comparison,” ISU 2 says.

  “What else can I use you for?”

  “I am an explorer unit. I can map areas and follow tracks.”

  “Could you find out where Marchenko is currently located?”

  “I could check all possible paths using a process of elimination.”

  “How long will that take?”

  “That is impossible to predict. So far I have mapped one twenty-seventh of the spatial volume of this building. In the worst case, I will find Marchenko within a month. Should I start right away?”

  “No, wait, I am thinking about it.”

  Eve walks around the alien once more. What had been its task here? The room definitely seems to fulfill some central function. There certainly should be a 3D map of the entire building here. If the aliens are really as technically advanced as it seems, it might show in real time which rooms have occupants. She just has to find out how to use the alien technology. Perhaps then she could even send a message. The fact is, everything is collapsing here. If nobody intervenes, and soon, the aliens sleeping in the honeycombs are doomed. Nobody will be able to help her anymore, unless she somehow finds Marchenko, but it would be nice to know that she saved the lives of several thousand beings during her last days.

  She stands next to the alien’s seat and places her head at about the height of the upper end of its body, where its eyes are located. Where was the creature looking during its final minutes? What is the most important object in this room? No, this does not work. The four eyes of the creature confuse her. One looks forward to the left, to a small cabinet with a large number of symbols, and another to the front right where she sees an object as tall as a man and resembling a wardrobe. And then there are also two eyes that are aimed backward. There are two quite different objects in those directions. One is a pillar reminiscent of a Greek column. The other is a chest with figures on top of the lid. The figures look like something carved by a mad artist. Eve memorizes which object lies in each direction and then pushes against the seat of the alien. As she suspects, it is a swivel chair. The alien could use his four arms to operate two devices simultaneously and keep two more in view. Very efficient!

  The column seems the easiest to identify. It has an octagonal footprint and tapers in the middle. Eve touches the material. It looks like gray stone, but it feels warm and smooth. The column reaches up to her belly button. She stands next to it and looks at the top part. Because it is curved inward, it reminds her of a basin. A baptismal font? No, that idea comes from too much of a human perspective. She also detects switches around the edge that are marked with unknown symbols. Without Marchenko, she once again has no chance to find out their meaning. Eve focuses on the infrared image. It is significant that most symbols are connected below the surface by a mysterious pattern of fine red lines. That must be electrical wiring. Two elements stand out. From these, thicker lines run directly into the basin. At its bottom they form a loop and then join exactly in the center. Now she also sees that the material there is a bit shiny.

  Some kind of process must be triggered there. Would the basin fil
l with water, or with another liquid? The numerous switches around the edge of the base then could determine the exact composition, and when you press the two buttons from which the lines emerge, the liquid is discharged. Eve rubs her hands. She would like to discuss her ideas with someone, but only ISU 2 is here, and the sensor unit probably would say that it does not have enough information. Instead, she turns around and looks into the alien’s backward-looking eye.

  “What do you think I should do?”

  She waits, but the alien offers no reply. Well, the alien is right. She has to decide for herself. Eve reaches across the basin and touches two symbols she has selected. Then she presses down on them. They move a few millimeters. Eve hears a soft humming sound that gradually is increasing in volume. Then a golden ball grows from the deepest spot of the basin. At first it is the size of a marble, then that of a tennis ball, and then a soccer ball. Eve takes two steps back and bumps against the dead alien’s chair. The ball is still swelling, until its diameter reaches about a meter and a half.

  The ball now fits perfectly into the curvature of the basin. It still has a golden glow but is slowly becoming transparent. At the same time a structure develops in its interior, consisting of a central fireball orbited by a tiny marble. The orb’s golden skin disappears so that Eve understands the function of this column: It is a three-dimensional star chart. The star in the center should be Proxima Centauri, and the tiny marble orbiting it the planet she is currently on. It should be possible to zoom in and out of the display, but Eve would first have to decipher the numerous symbols.

  The 3D chart is breathtakingly beautiful. It appears to be a hologram, because Eve can reach into it with her hand. This does not tell her much, though, as she already was aware of her location. She would have preferred a spatial representation of the building. Eve presses other buttons at random, but that does not change the display. She probably would have to enter coordinates in some way unknown to her.

  What now? Eve feels a growing sense of disappointment. She activated a technical device belonging to an alien civilization. She should be proud of that! Nevertheless, she would have preferred specific and useful hints. Even though she has accepted her impending death pragmatically, she subconsciously still hopes to be saved.

  “ISU 2?”

  “Yes, Eve?”

  “We have to find Marchenko quickly.”

  “The search has top priority for me.”

  “That’s not what I mean. The systematic search you are planning would take much too long.”

  “We do not have other options.”

  “We have to find out by some other means what happened to Marchenko.”

  “I do not understand.”

  Eve suspected that this would be beyond the mental capacity of the sensor unit’s limited AI. But the mere fact of having someone to talk to quickens her imagination.

  “You said that the connection was interrupted in this room.”

  “That is correct.”

  “Where did you last see Marchenko?”

  “At the site of the accident. From there he sent out all sensor units to search.”

  “Why didn’t he himself start to search?”

  “He was unable to move.”

  “Then how exactly did he get into this room?”

  “I do not have any information about it. When he sent us out, he was still busy repairing himself.”

  “When was the repair supposed to be finished?”

  “The following day.”

  “And when did the connection break off?”

  “Three hours after I started my search.”

  “Do you notice the contradiction, ISU 2?”

  “Yes. Marchenko could not have been in this room when the contact ended, yet he was here.”

  “Are you really sure concerning the place and the times?”

  “Both values are 99.9998 percent certain.”

  “Fine. If he did not get here by walking with his own legs, then someone or something must have carried him.”

  “That would resolve the contradiction.”

  “There must have been a reason for that. Marchenko was certainly rather heavy. It would take a lot of energy to transport him here. Why was this energy expended?”

  “The—”

  Eve interrupts ISU 2. “I am just thinking out loud. He caused quite a mess back there with that explosion. Avoiding further destruction sounds like a good reason. There could have been an attempt to neutralize him. If they wanted to destroy him completely, they could have done that right then and there without carrying him this far.”

  “That is logical.”

  “Then he was neutralized by some process in this room, without being physically destroyed. But how?”

  “I do not have any—”

  “I know, ISU 2,” Eve says, cutting him off again. “I don’t see any device in this room that could do that. Maybe I am too stupid to recognize it. That’s possible. It could be simply hidden in one of these cabinets.”

  “These cabinets must be perfectly insulated,” the ISU says. “Otherwise I would definitely receive something from such a short distance.”

  “It was just an idea. I am afraid we won’t be able to find the hiding place by ourselves.”

  “Should I delete the search for Marchenko from my program memory?”

  “No. If we can’t find it ourselves we just have to ask the thing that brought Marchenko here.”

  “I am not aware of such an object.”

  “I have no idea what it looks like, either. I don’t think it was one of the inhabitants. It would not have left its colleague sitting here like that. I think we should rather look for a machine.”

  “I cannot detect any movement or energy signatures.”

  “It probably turned itself off after finishing its task. Then we have to call it again.”

  “How can we establish contact with an unknown machine?”

  “Exactly like Marchenko. By breaking things.”

  Eve turns around once and walks across the room. She tries to push over one of the cabinet-like objects but it is firmly anchored in the floor. She also cannot see any tool she could use to destroy things. There must be some detection threshold they would have to exceed. Scratching up the floor would not be enough to get the ‘police’ unit to come.

  “Hello, is there anyone here?” she yells as loud as she can. Perhaps noise would be enough. She stops and listens. Nothing. She pulls out her tool bag and sees at first glance that she won’t get far with it. Marchenko obviously called attention to himself through an explosion. She lacks the means to do so. In addition, she only wants to talk to the alien machine and avoid being attacked by it. She could run away, unlike Marchenko, but how would she then find out what happened to him?

  She walks around the room once more, and then again and again. During her fourth round she almost stumbles over ISU 2.

  The little robot seems impatient. “I ask permission to continue the search for Marchenko.”

  “Why are you in such a hurry?”

  “Finding him has top priority for me.”

  “One moment,” she replies.

  The sensor unit must have a self-destruct mechanism. If it explodes loudly enough, that might attract the machine she is looking for. She hopes she won’t be in danger then, because she wouldn’t be the obvious source of the disturbance.

  “I have a suggestion that might shorten the search time considerably.” She must describe her idea in cautious terms in order to avoid any conflict with the motivation of the AI. The sensor unit would then no longer be able to fulfill its explicit task of locating Marchenko. Of course she directly contributes to this fact. The AI of the sensor unit must accept this as a valid opportunity to fulfill its mission.

  “Asking for a description of the improved search strategy,” ISU 2 says.

  “You will form a technical-biological unit with me. The technical part of this unit triggers the self-destruct mechanism. The biological part then determines
what happens to the remains, thus finding the location of Marchenko in a very short time.”

  The ISU does not answer. Its AI seems to have a hard time making this decision. “This method would end the existence of ISU 2,” it finally says.

  “I am very sorry,” Eve says, and she means it. She likes the electronic snake—it has become almost a pet for her. After all, it is currently the only companion she can talk to.

  “Its own existence does not have priority for ISU 2,” the sensor unit replies. “However, the uncertainty factor of the suggested strategy is high. If it fails, ISU 2 can no longer search for Marchenko.”

  “You will just have to trust me,” Eve says.

  “How would this work?”

  “Your self-destruction is not going to fail, is it? Then the only free variable is my behavior afterward. You define this variable as one, or one hundred percent. This mathematical procedure is called ‘trust’ by humans.”

  “I understand. Thank you for explaining the concept of trust to me. Should I initiate my self-destruct mechanism now?”

  “Just a moment while I gather my thoughts.”

  The sensor unit does not answer. It is probably waiting for a sign.

  What is the best thing to say in such a moment? ‘Thank you for your efforts?’ The AI will soon die voluntarily. The mechanical pet is sacrificing itself for her. It is an odd feeling, and somehow rubs her the wrong way. The fact that the ISU can speak made Eve feel close to it right away.

  “You can start the self-destruct sequence now,” Eve finally says dryly.

  “Starting sequence. Please step back two meters for safety reasons.”

  “Make it as loud as you can,” Eve says. She sits down again in the empty chair. From here she has a good view of the dying ISU. First, something happens in the infrared range. A thick red line develops under the skin of the snake.