And there it is... Now! He kicks hard with his right leg, moving half a leg-length to the left. At the same instant he feels the water pressure on his right side briefly increase. Something swam by him very quickly. Gronolf reacts immediately. He accelerates forward, away from the predator. He puts all his strength into the swim movements, thinking of nothing but escape. Yes he still remembers to approach the surface again gradually. He has to succeed, otherwise he might as well have stayed behind to be ripped apart by his brothers and sisters! He is convinced his mother believes in him and he tells himself that she desperately wants to see him again.
Gronolf does not know for how long he has been fleeing. His mind can only concentrate on giving commands to his legs. It is getting dark, and fog forms at the edges of his consciousness. He realizes he is approaching a line he should not cross. He must not go on. If the distance is not enough, it doesn’t matter. Stop, he tells his legs, but, caught in a panic-fueled dance, they don’t hear him. STOP, he yells at them, and the signal finally reaches his legs. He is once again in control of his legs, and notices he has reached the surface.
A cool breeze touches his skin. It feels so wonderful he turns around his axis several times. A digestive gas bubble leaves his stomach. That is a good sign—he has gathered enough food for the time being. And he has survived, for the second time. Gronolf opens all four of his eyes. The two facing down can only detect blackness—and no carriontooth. The other two eyes, the ones above the water’s surface, notice the new day. On the horizon the yellow rays of Mother Sun appear, while Father Sun is leaving. The warm, yellow glow provides him with a feeling of security and warmth. The sky is changing. Starting in the direction of the sunrise, an intense green rises into the firmament. It is a fertile color, which also expresses an incredible calm and satisfaction. It can’t be far now to the center of the ocean, where extensive cave systems make it easier to survive in solitude. Gronolf has made it.
May 8, 19, Adam
“Marchenko, how much longer?”
“Tomorrow, my boy. Tomorrow we will be there.”
How he hates this. Adam hits his fist against the inner wall of the metal ‘cigar-tube’ in which Marchenko 2 has been carrying him along for almost a month. He knows he should be thankful for his rescue. How could I have been so stupid as to leave the sled while we were in complete darkness? And this Marchenko—Marchenko 2, the fake Marchenko—is even more possessive than the real one. He is constantly treating me like a little boy. Since Valkyrie started from the edge of the ice sheet, Adam has not been allowed to leave the vessel.
“What do the scanners indicate?”
“There is a huge mass in front of us. It must be a building.”
As if we didn’t know that already!
“Any signs of Eve?”
He deliberately asks about his sister. Marchenko 2 does not want to hear about the AI which raised Eve and him.
“Unfortunately not, my son.”
I am NOT your son, Adam thinks, being careful his irritation does not show. “Please tell me right away if you receive a signal.”
“Certainly! We will know more within 15 hours. And now, lie down and sleep so you will be rested tomorrow.”
“I will do that,” Adam says. He could not possibly sleep now. How might Eve and their Marchenko be doing? Have they already discovered the secrets of this building? Might the shift in mass within the Proxima system, which Marchenko 2 reported, have been caused by them? Right now, he would like to feel Eve’s breath against the back of his neck. Then he could definitely fall asleep. Even her slight snore would calm him.
Adam remembers the time on the sled. It seems an eternity ago, even though only a month has passed. He did not appreciate the sense of community. How stupid can one be? And all this secrecy, just because Marchenko 2 lured him with the truth about his origins. Truth. What is that actually? It is true that he misses Eve—and Marchenko—his Marchenko. Adam hesitates to call him father. He cannot express why, but if he were forced to call a person his father, then it would be the true Marchenko.
Adam has known this form of truth for a month now. It was revealed to him when he died, when he was alone in the icy darkness and understood that this mistake would cost him his life. That was a strange moment. He fought it for a long time, tried so hard to save himself, and kept hoping for the arrival of the second Marchenko. He ran, then walked, then staggered along... and finally, crawled. And then he could not go on. His muscles absolutely refused to move. He knew he would never again open his eyes if he closed them at that moment. He looked up at the sky, and at first he did not see anything. Then the sky changed color. He could not believe his eyes. Together with what he believed to be an aurora came images, a short version of his life. He had laughed out loud as it seemed so cliché to him. His childhood on board Messenger, the hours with J the robot who served as their teacher, the infinitely many days with his sister, full of boredom, fights, and made-up stories. And then he saw the landing on Proxima b, the escape from the heat of the central plain, the attack of the mini-frogs, their time in the strange forest of fighting trees and colorful mushrooms. He always considered himself so smart, but he had been stupid. How clumsily he had fallen into the pit with that weird spider! Eve had watched and supported him when Marchenko was angry once again. He knew he owed so much to her, and then he realized he had lost her forever.
Adam can’t remember the following hours.
Marchenko 2 later mentioned how he found him—in a fetal position, but with his eyes open. His circulation had not stopped, it had lowered to a maintenance level which prevented his cells from freezing. Adam does not know whether he can believe him, even partially. He must have remained motionless for six hours at minus 80 degrees Celsius. That is completely impossible! And then Marchenko 2 still had to transport him back to Valkyrie, to the submarine Adam and the others had left at the edge of the ice sheet. He supposedly provided Adam with nutrients via IVs.
Right now, Adam is doing amazingly well again. He still has dressings on the back of his hand and in the crooks of both arms, where the intravenous needles had been inserted. Otherwise, his skin is unblemished. Shouldn’t he at least have suffered frostbite? It is not as if he wants black toes or fingers falling off, but the fact that he survived his enormous stupidity without any problems makes him skeptical. Marchenko 2, though, insists that there was nothing strange about this. Is he keeping something secret?
Adam has been wondering whether he might currently be nothing but a simulation in Marchenko 2’s memory bank, or whether he is experiencing one last, infinite dream, while in reality his body has been long dead. Yet when he pinches himself the pain is real, as is the fear about Eve and the wish to meet her again—as soon as possible.
Darknight 171, 3307
Yesterday Gronolf heard his mother call him in a dream. Then he awoke and noticed it had not been a dream. His mother actually was calling him! It was the first time his sonar had reacted. The organ had taken almost a cycle to mature, and now it was transmitting his mother’s wish. He will return, just like all his surviving brothers and sisters. How many will there be? He wishes his mother, who gave him so much strength, the lucky number seven.
He has been swimming non-stop since his mother’s call. The continuous effort helped him to suppress his fear. He cannot simply move to the coast and step on land. First the draght awaits him. That is the way life works on this planet. Brightnight and darknight last 49 weeks. Mother Sun rises and sets 343 times, Father Sun only once. And then comes the time of twilight, two days floating between this cycle and the next, in a kind of no man’s land. Before cycle 3308 begins he will turn from adolescent to adult, in a process he knows nothing about except that it is painful. During the past 49 weeks Gronolf rarely felt afraid. He remembers his encounter with the carriontooth. In retrospect this gave him courage, and three weeks ago he managed to kill his first carriontooth. The predator fish tasted awful, but he ate all of it, and it felt good.
Yet h
e is unsure about the draght. How can he start it? Nobody gave him any instructions. Only the call of his mother, telling him to get started. He also heard the other mothers, but only the voice of his own maker filled him with warmth. Couldn’t she have revealed what is expected of him? Gronolf swims forward with strong kicks of his legs. He has grown, and his body is probably five times as long as when he hatched and started swimming away from the beach.
His skin has become tough—that carriontooth he evaded soon after he hatched would stand no chance now. His legs are muscular and his eyes are sharp. He has learned to see an all-around panorama, instead of individual images from each eye. When he raises his body above the surface, nothing escapes him, no matter in which direction. He has also learned to interpret weather phenomena. He knows what the evening purple means, when the sky will change from green to turquoise, and when he has to watch for the sudden appearance of whirlwinds.
Gronolf can feel his body. He glides through the water with powerful movements. Nobody can stop him. How might his siblings have fared? Are they just as big and strong as he is? He has to be careful. He should not feel too secure. Why should he have received the best genetic material and become the strongest in his plex? While it feels that way right now, it is not very likely. Just watch it, Gronolf, he thinks. During the last few weeks he often talked out loud to himself. He couldn’t help it, because he needed to hear his voice—or rather, any voice. He knows this is a sign of weakness, but isn’t it also sensible to train his voice? Shouldn’t the biggest one in the plex also be the loudest? He realizes, though, that he had better stop these soliloquies.
Gronolf calls down into the water. He can determine the depth by the time the sound takes to return. His sense of smell tells him he is swimming above rocks. The beach must still be quite a distance away. He will notice the approaching shore because sand will replace the rocky sea floor. No plants grow this close to the coast. The ocean is too warm here, and not salty enough. In the past—during the dawn of civilization—that must have been different. The Grosnops have dominated their planet.
He emerges from the water. Something tells him the darknight will end soon. And indeed, he can detect the first traces of Father Sun on the horizon. Once it rises completely above the Mountains of Legends, in all its remote paternal glory, he will have become a man, having survived the draght.
Suddenly his left leg is stuck. Gronolf is shocked. He turns in all directions. Both legs are stiff, as if something is holding them, but there is nothing. His muscles simply no longer obey his commands. What is happening here? Is he sick? Then the other leg simply stops moving. This can’t be! He has been able to rely on his legs for an entire cycle! Gradually he sinks below the water. His inertia is still moving him through the ocean, but if he can no longer kick, not enough water will flow through his gills and he will inevitably suffocate.
Gronolf frantically moves his two tiny forearms, which are more reminiscent of the fins of a fish, but without effect. He tries to hold the air in his swim bladder as long as possible. He can use the air supply several times and should survive for two bubble periods if he does not exert himself too much. He stops moving his arms. That’s useless anyway. Frantic thoughts whirl through his brain. He would like to turn them off, but he can’t. What if a carriontooth catches me now? Nonsense, he thinks, those creatures don’t dare get this close to the coast. And it doesn’t matter anyway. He needs to move his legs so he can get enough air and keep from suffocating. It is way too early! Didn’t he promise to make his mother proud? Perhaps, he thinks, I am number eight and my death would give her the lucky number she deserves. He notices, though, that he is not convinced. He wants to survive, no matter whether his mother has seven or eight descendants in her plex. That is selfish, but he doesn’t care, as he will never have to answer for it—he is dying now.
“Mother!” he calls. “Mother?”
Gronolf receives no answer.
Can’t she hear him? Is he not calling loudly enough? Doesn’t she want to answer? Is it because that would be against the rules—or because she doesn’t love him? He feels the hard floor touching the skin on his belly. Now it is too late. He comes to rest and has no chance to gain momentum again. His heart is beating faster. This will hasten his end, but it doesn’t matter anymore. Gronolf feels ready to give in to death. Then an unbearable pain flashes through his chest. What is happening to my body? Is this the end? he thinks.
He hears his mother calling him again. He is grateful for it. Her voice is infinitely comforting. His consciousness fades as the pain becomes excruciating.
May 9, 19, Marchenko 2
Now that thing is directly above them. Marchenko 2 is quite satisfied with himself. Adam is still fast asleep, and he won’t wake him up. The boy shouldn’t see what he is about to do. It is better if he doesn’t know everything. Adam does not realize that an analysis of his blood found a kind of antifreeze. If he knew that his body had been genetically modified in such a way that extreme cold hardly affects him, it would be more difficult to keep the boy under control. Marchenko 2 is not naive. He knows that Adam misses his sister and certainly that other Marchenko, who made himself into something like a father to the boy. He intends to solve both of these problems now. He will get Eve back, and get rid of his alter ego once and for all.
As he doesn’t want any witnesses for that, he will leave Adam behind in dreamland. He turns off Valkyrie’s control system and, to be on the safe side, deactivates all radio channels except for his private frequency, to allow Adam to reach him once he awakens. Then he checks his energy supply. He cannot reach the strange mass above him, probably a building, directly. He will first have to dig through an ice layer. During the last few days he has reshaped his body so that he has only a small cross-section.
The best way to get rid of the ice is for him to melt it. Therefore his head now contains an electrical heater and a small turbine, which will blow heated water to make the channel for him to go through the ice. Basically, his body is a miniature version of Valkyrie. He had wondered whether to use the submarine, which was designed for this very purpose, but he would not have been able to hide this from Adam. He must not take the conflict with other Marchenko too lightly. It is enough that Eve is against him.
Marchenko 2 accelerates by contracting his bell-shaped lower part. He looks sort of like a very slim squid. It is good Adam and Eve won’t get to see him in this shape, which he only needs to get through the ice layer. The radar in his head shows him how cragged the underside of the ice is. It is overgrown with something that might be compared to lichen. How could this plant species get enough energy down here? And is it really a plant? He briefly thinks of the Enceladus creature, which consists of billions of independent cells. Perhaps he is now in the presence of the real master of Proxima Centauri b! Marchenko 2 suppresses this thought. He has to concentrate on finding a way upward. He carefully looks for a particularly suitable spot and starts drilling a tunnel through the ice.
He moves ahead faster than expected. The ice should be harder and therefore more difficult to melt as he progresses toward the surface. With its air temperature of minus 80 degrees, it is much colder up there than in the four-degree ocean water beneath the ice layer. Yet the building above him is probably radiating energy, so that the ice here is also heated from above. After an hour and a half of work he is almost done. The radar is still not showing anything, because it does not penetrate far enough into the ice, but the building is already influencing the magnetic field. Therefore, a significant part of it must consist of metal.
Ten minutes later the radar suddenly indicates a cavity. Marchenko 2 stops the drill turbine immediately. He has to think about this. The radar can’t definitively tell him what the cavity contains. If it is filled with air, he must not simply break into it from below, as the water pressure would fill the cavity quickly due to ‘the principle of communicating vessels.’ He has to assume that this cavity exists for a reason, so he should be as cautious as possible. How c
an he avoid an accident? He has to prevent the water from entering the cavity together with himself. For this purpose, all he needs to do is close off his tunnel behind himself. Marchenko 2 precisely measures the diameter of the tunnel below him, then he widens his current position slightly and cuts a correctly sized plug from the side wall.
He finishes 30 minutes later. The ice plug fits perfectly. He presses it into the tunnel with all his might. Now nothing behind him can move upward.
Marchenko 2 concentrates on climbing again. He drills more slowly than before and therefore he takes another half an hour for the last few meters. And then he is there. The cavity opens up, reaching far above him. It is not filled with air but with water. However, the water contains much less salt than the ocean, so it must come from a different source. It is probably meltwater with some technical impurities.
He turns on his searchlight. The floor of the cavity is covered with strange objects. None of them is longer than one or two meters. He swims to the first object he sees. It consists of a shiny material. He shakes it. Judging from the weight it must be metal. The thing has a kind of wing, with three rods attached, which end in small rings. One of the rods is bent in the middle at a 30-degree angle, the other ones are straight. He turns the object around and notices a sharp edge. It looks like something has been broken off. The edge is uneven but, based on the manufacturing quality elsewhere, this cannot be on purpose. He is probably looking at a piece of junk. He drops it.
Marchenko 2 moves another meter to a second, cube-shaped object. It is bright. He touches it and notices it is made from a soft material. There is a hole in the middle. He shines his light into it and notices a second object, which seems to be unattached. He tilts the cube over and the hidden object slowly sinks toward the bottom. He catches it. It is egg-shaped and has an elastic surface. Yet on the tip it is dented. What function might it have fulfilled? Now it is obviously defective. He has probably found the garbage dump of the aliens’ building. They are not exactly environmentalists, he thinks, simply throwing their garbage outside into the ecosystem. On the other hand, this probably doesn’t bother anyone here. He might be the first person to stray into this cave full of garbage.
Proxima Trilogy: Part 1-3: Hard Science Fiction Page 51