Proxima Trilogy: Part 1-3: Hard Science Fiction

by Brandon Q Morris

  While she had found out how to open such a chamber, she has no idea what she could do to save the aliens. The entire system is breaking down for reasons unknown to her. Proxima b is dying. Perhaps her confidence is naive, but if anyone can help, it would be Marchenko. Therefore she has to get in contact with him first, and if that is not enough, she has to reach the inhabitants’ relatives who left for the stars untold ages ago. Eve decides to remain in her seat, and she waits patiently until the time has come.

  As promised by ISU 4, ISU 1 reports back after a few minutes. Almost an hour later, ISU 3 and ISU 5 follow. Then Eve becomes noticeably nervous. She wiggles her toes and kneads her hands. Should she start right away? Four units might be enough to allow her to look over the cabinet. No, those few more minutes won’t matter.

  She hears a rumbling sound from far away. Her seat vibrates slightly. Eve jumps up and almost stumbles over one of the sensor units. She cannot distinguish the units from each other.

  “Did you feel that, too, ISU 4?”

  The answer comes from behind her. “I registered a loud noise in the distance, followed by a slight shock.”

  “Could you be more precise?”

  “No, because the event was too far away.”

  Eve massages her temples, feeling overwhelmed. She is almost sure this has something to do with Marchenko. What might have happened? Maybe now the structure of the building is starting to fail, after its functions have deteriorated. That would be an odd coincidence. Or had their mere presence finally triggered a self-destruct mechanism? That is unlikely. If so, the building would kill all of its still-living occupants just because of two strangers it is trying to get rid of. In addition, one would expect a shrill alarm to sound in the corridors.

  No, this was certainly Marchenko. What can this possibly mean? Are these the sounds of fighting, or an explosion he caused? Did his plan work? If I could only talk to him! She walks around in a circle through the control room, faster and faster, until she is breathless.

  Girl, that’s no good, she thinks to calm herself down. Sit down now, take a deep breath, and then finish your plan. Yet her body refuses and won’t let her stop. She will walk in a circle until she can present a solution. Hadn’t she feared she might go insane? She already is insane.

  ISU 6 rescues her from her musings. The sensor unit falls from the ceiling, directly in front of her feet. Eve is startled, stops, and looks up. She sees that a hatch is still closing up there.

  “ISU 6 reporting in,” says the fat snake as it is quickly wriggling sideways.

  “Very good,” Eve says. Suddenly she feels quite calm again. The shock stopped her thoughts from spinning, like someone deliberately startling you when you have the hiccups. She has to remember that.

  “I need four ISUs in a configuration suitable as a platform for me.”

  Nobody answers. It looks as if the units are putting their heads together, whispering to each other. Then they all crawl in parallel to the device that, so far, has only produced beautiful sounds and the blue hologram. Four ISUs interlace in such a way that Eve can stand securely on them with both feet. She tests her new position. Her hands still reach the two upper sectors of the keypad, but now she can also look over the cabinet.

  “Great,” she says, “this will work.” One single ISU is still lying next to the platform. “Is that you, ISU 4?”

  “That is correct.”

  “I need you to activate the two lower symbols again. The same ones as earlier.”

  “Understood.”

  Eve turns forward. She hopes the blue projection will appear again soon. She looks for the keys she pressed before.

  “Now,” she says. Two sounds indicate ISU 4 has followed her order. She waits for a few seconds and then presses her two symbol keys. Once again a soothing chord is heard in the room, before the crackling and humming starts. Static electricity, she thinks. Her individual hairs are being charged and they stand up. This time she has a good view of the shiny marvel appearing above a seemingly-empty area.

  The projection technology must be hidden in the walls, the ceiling, or the floor. It is hard to tell what she is seeing. If only Marchenko were here, he certainly could decipher this structure. Eve has seen images of the large-scale structure of the universe, and this projection reminds her of it. However, it possesses significantly more elements. She might be seeing something that is otherwise not observable, the dark matter whose structures span space. That is fascinating, but it seems to serve no obvious purpose.

  She also does not think this is a form of art. Why would they put in all the effort to place this in the control room? Eve glances down to the keypad. Right now she and the ISU have activated symbols in the outermost of the concentric rings. Would it be possible to zoom in on the image? She lets go of one of the symbols in the right upper quadrant and touches the symbol next to it. The hoped-for effect does not occur, but the image slides a bit to the left. She tries the same method on the upper left sector. The image slides down. Okay, so these two sectors seem to handle the x- and y-axes.

  “ISU 4, in your left sector please press the symbol to the right of the current one.”

  The projection moves to the back. Now she has found the z-axis. And what about the circles? Eve selects the symbol directly below the current one with her right hand. Nothing at all happens. She moves one further key to the right. Now the image moves to the left, but not as much. The rings seem to change the distance by which the image is moved. On her universal device she just slides two of her fingers apart for such changes. However, she is only a human with two hands and ten fingers. If the user had twice as many hands and 22 fingers, this strange-looking interface might be significantly more efficient.

  She must zoom into the image as precisely as possible and establish contact, if that is even feasible. The lower right quadrant should be responsible for that. She has the ISU test several symbols and indeed finds the zoom mechanism this way. However, zooming in on a precise location is difficult. Shouldn’t it be easier to move toward a specific place? She thinks of the maps people once used on Earth. You only had to know the coordinates of a place to call it up. Perhaps the inhabitants possess electronic lists they use for navigation, or there is a voice interface that she has not noticed yet—but which would be useless to her anyway.

  One moment. The hemisphere visible in the inner circle is marked with a symbol. She tries to reach it with her right hand but the shape is too far below. Now the entire hologram disappears again. It seems to turn itself off when fewer than three keys are pressed for a certain length of time. She activates a random symbol to bring the image back. Can she reach the planet symbol with her knee? A kingdom for a third arm!

  She stands on one leg and carefully presses the right knee against the hemisphere. The image flickers, briefly disappears, and then rebuilds itself on a completely different scale. She sees a mirror image of the building. Eve is fascinated. She has finally found a diagram of the building! In this depiction the edifice looks like a living being. A strong heart—a pulsating sphere—beats in its center. This must be the building’s energy source. Is this image realistic? If so, the building would exhibit very different proportions from what Messenger’s mass scan indicated.

  The farther that one advances into the interior, the larger the rooms and corridors become. Scales seem to shift. Distances appear to increase. Is that technically even possible? Eve zooms in more on the image with the aid of ISU 4. First she finds the honeycomb chambers where the aliens sleep. Here the image flickers in many spots. From there she tries to retrace her own path into the central room. There is the pipe, and here... yes, this is the room. The octagonal shape is unique, and there is also a special symbol, a dot blinking blue and white. This is either the device she is operating now—or the building has noticed her presence.

  The idea gives her hope, because if she can be seen on the map, then Marchenko could be found as well. From the central room a thick line leads briefly down and then to the side. Nea
r the energy center it expands and then moves down to the bottom of the building. Eve holds her breath. She should find Marchenko soon. The line ends in a spherical room, which in her display appears to be empty. There is no blinking dot, as in the central room.

  She is paralyzed by disappointment. This has also been futile. She stares intensively at the map, as if she could force it by sheer willpower to reveal Marchenko’s location. The only thing she notices is a broken wall at the bottom of the spherical room. Eve’s hands tremble. She hopes Marchenko did not fall through this hole.

  Suddenly the humming sound of the holographic image really stresses her. She lets go of the symbols and returns to her chair. She urgently needs to rest now. She sits down carefully, props up her elbows, and places her heavy head in her hands. It is just too much. She can’t do it. This back and forth between hope and despair, this fear of solitude—she just can’t stand it any longer. She would like to cry now, let the tears flow, but she can’t even manage to do that anymore. It’s a complete fiasco.

  And who is to blame, who got her into this situation? Marchenko? That would be unfair. The Creator sent her on this voyage without ever asking her. For many years she was thankful for this. What is normal, after all? She did not know anything different. Yet now she feels an anger that must have always been hidden deep inside her. She slaps her hand against the armrest.

  No matter. She is not yet finished here. Some day she will be able to tell the Creator what she really thinks of him, even though right now the idea seems absurd. He will have to face her. And therefore she has to survive.

  The blue hologram had to be more than just a map. For one thing, the column already provided a kind of 3D map of the system. Two different devices fulfilling the same function? That is unlikely. She stands up and walks back to the cabinet. The ISUs have not moved from their spots.

  “Nice ISUs,” she says.

  “I did not understand this command,” ISU 4 replies.

  “It was an expression of praise.”

  “Thanks.”

  She once again steps on the artificial platform. “The symbols that were previously selected,” she says. One sound rings out, the other one might be inaudible to her.

  “Can you confirm that the system emits sounds in the ultrasonic range?”

  “Confirmed,” the sensor unit replies.

  Eve nods. She guessed right. She presses a knee against the hemisphere so that the image centers on the building. She navigates through the edifice using the symbols in the upper quadrants but finds no trace of Marchenko. The strange heart is still beating. She asks the ISU to increase the scale using the lower quadrant. The building gradually shrinks and then disappears into the surface of the planet.

  By now the imaginary observer, from whose perspective the scene is displayed, is floating in space. Eve briefly looks for Messenger, but then remembers they used the spaceship to clear their way. She sighs. The way back to space is barred. Now the planet becomes smaller. There is the asteroid belt. She expects the sun to come into view when she notices a mass glowing in an intensive blue at the edge of the display. Is that Proxima Centauri?

  She shifts the field of view until she realizes this object is also orbiting the central star. What has she found here? Eve’s heart is beating faster. Why didn’t they see this when onboard Messenger? There can be only one reason—it was not there earlier. The object must have arrived after them. Probably after they crashed Messenger, as otherwise the ship would have warned them. If something can arrive somewhere it probably is not a natural object. Just the enormous size would argue against it.

  The sphere is smaller than Proxima b, but certainly surpasses the size of Earth’s moon. In the holographic display, it shines brighter than any other object, even than the star Proxima Centauri that now comes into view. Does this mean something? If there only were a manual on operating this device!

  Eve looks at the entire control panel again, without letting go of the keys. The symbol on the hemisphere shines in white. Is that an invitation? She moves her knee into position. The image jumps. The center no longer shows the building, but the glowing blue sphere. Her knee vibrates. This must be the hemisphere that serves to center the display. Does it have an additional function? She won’t find out using her knee. Therefore her left hand reaches for the lowest of all symbols. This way she can bend down and still just reach the hemisphere on the right. She takes away her knee and places her hand there. The ball is pleasantly warm and still vibrates slightly. It seems to be waiting for something.

  Eve moves her hand slightly and looks at the hologram. Could the bright sphere have moved as well? Hello, extraterrestrials, she thinks, come to me. I am on this planet. She moves the hand on the hemisphere in the direction of Proxima b. The hemisphere turns in its mounting and vibrates more vigorously. A bit more—she seems to be on the right track. Could she really steer the alien spaceship in her direction?

  The vibration increases, but the intensely glowing sphere doesn’t seem to be quite on the right course. Eve overcomes the resistance of the mounting and keeps turning the control. The hemispherical surface is no longer warm, but quite hot. Don't let me down, she thinks. She ignores the pain from the heat and moves it a bit more. Now the strange object is definitely moving toward Proxima b. She has made it!

  Suddenly the vibration stops. The hemisphere can no longer be turned, no matter how hard she tries. Its surface stays hot. The soft tones of the device have turned into an unpleasant jumble. She lets go of all keys, but this time the hologram remains where it is. The awful tune keeps on playing. What has happened? Why doesn’t the hologram disappear? Did she annoy the system by being too aggressive?

  She steps off the artificial platform, walks around the cabinet blowing on her hand, and goes to stand in the middle of the hologram. All around her are blue lights, objects blinking blue, and blue bodies. It would be beautiful if the sounds playing were not so distorted. She stands in front of the glowing sphere and touches it with a finger. Of course there is only emptiness.

  Eve draws a straight line following the object’s direction of travel. After a while her finger meets Proxima b, the world on which she lives. What if this isn’t a spaceship, but something else hurtling towards the planet? She shakes her head. How could another object get into an orbit around the local star so quickly? This thing must have arrived here under its own power. Unless they somehow overlooked it earlier… Slowly, she feels terror creeping up her spine. No, that is totally impossible. Yet the cacophony of sounds coming from the loudspeakers in the ceiling seems to confirm her rising fears. She feels that something terrible is about to happen, even though she does not yet know what it is.

  Eve sits back down in her chair. She realizes quickly that she won’t be able to sit still for long. She has to escape these horrible sounds. However, she wants to look at the dead alien’s face one more time.

  “George,” she says, “couldn’t you have warned me?”

  The alien does not reply, but his head moves imperceptibly, left, right, and back to center.

  May 7, 19

  Another 96 kilometers. Marchenko 2 deactivates his scanner again. Moving underwater is considerably slower than traveling on the ice sheet. He checks his energy supply. Everything is within the normal range. Then he receives a radio message from his base. His underwater home, which used to be a spaceship, reports detecting an unusual mass shift.

  “‘Mass shift?’” Marchenko 2 asks.

  “The gravitational situation in the Proxima Centauri system has changed dramatically,” the system replies. It is good that he had already installed his own background software before the other crew appeared.

  “What does this mean? Will there be a collision?”

  “No, but if the current trend continues, the orbit of Proxima b will become unstable. The planet will crash into its sun, or at least get much too close to it.”

  All life on this planet is as good as dead. Marchenko 2 feels no emotion. He can burrow deep into
the rocks and survive almost any catastrophe, like a cockroach. He likes cockroaches. They are creatures able to survive in almost any condition, just like he can. Yet the message also offers him a chance. Perhaps he can still take his revenge. He falls silent.

  Author’s Note

  Welcome back to the comfort of your room, or wherever you are while reading this note. Exploring the dark side of Proxima b is no easy task, not for me, nor for Adam, Eve, and the two Marchenkos. Everything seems lost at this time, and maybe it really is. On the other hand, this is a trilogy. The third part is called Proxima Dreaming, so there might be some happier hours to come. I wish the team on Proxima b the best of luck, that’s for sure, and thank you for staying with them so Eve is not alone.

  This will not be for long, I promise. In fact, there is something happening right now that Eve has yet to notice. I have had similar experiences quite often in my life, and they have shaped me into a very optimistic person. Whenever things looked bad for me, there was something going on that I was unable to observe at the moment, but which would soon reveal itself and open up new possibilities. Maybe, I realize, it works the other way around—if you are optimistic, you will see new options. Anyway, I have been, and I am, a pretty lucky person, and I’m very thankful for that. Especially now that I have found a new reader—maybe even a fan—in you.

  I love getting messages from my readers. Would you like to ask me anything, such as what it was like growing up behind the Iron Curtain? You can contact me by e-mail at brandon@hard-sf.com or via Facebook. And if you liked this book, would you mind writing a review on Amazon? You can use this link:

  hard-sf.com/links/652146

  Thank you so much!