Because you were busy.
Gronolf looks at the general as if the officer had just spoken that thought. It is true. Until now, there simply hadn’t been any time for developing alternative plans.
He follows Adam with his right eye. Somehow the young human reminds him of a younger version of himself. Gronolf also used to get nervous when he had no meaningful task. And that had happened a lot during his training. Perhaps Adam should pay more attention to his sister. Gronolf never had that chance. The members of his plex quickly went their own ways. What might have become of his brothers and sisters? It would be nice to find an answer to that question sometime.
Perhaps Marchenko will be successful.
May 12, 19, Marchenko
“Who are you?”
That is a good question, and if he answers it incorrectly, it might be the last one. He could once more pretend to be the general, but if the system is cleverly constructed, it would have a camera and could see he is lying.
“I am Marchenko, a friend of Gronolf.”
“What do you need me for?”
“The Omniscience is on a course for the shelter building on Single Sun. If the building is destroyed, there will be many casualties. I have to stop the Omniscience from doing that.”
“I understand and have confirmed the collision course. Authorization granted.”
“That was it?”
“That was it. You answered my questions correctly.”
Marchenko is stunned. After all the efforts and struggles, the last stage was much simpler than he had feared. He was already prepared to report the key historical details Gronolf had transmitted to him. Well, even better—now they would not waste any more time.
“What’s next?” he asks.
“To whom should I transfer the control authority? I can give it to you or Gronolf. The decision cannot be reversed,”
Marchenko ponders... Using the Majestic Draght they could reach the solar system in 20 years. He could take Adam and Eve home, to Earth. His children would be among their peers. They still would have at least one-half of their lives ahead of them. If he hands control to Gronolf, they will certainly fly to Proxima Centauri. He has already described his plans to them. Adam and Eve could fly along, but they would spend the rest of their lives among strangers, with whom they could never properly communicate.
It is a difficult decision.
Transfer control to me, he thinks, that would be a real happy outcome. Adam and Eve are not responsible for this situation. They were never asked whether they wanted to go on this voyage.
“Gronolf,” he says, nevertheless. He simply cannot decide otherwise. He immediately feels guilty regarding his children, but he cannot help that.
“I understand,” the chamber answers. “Now you only have to decide the fate of the Omniscience. According to my records, it caused the death of 1,323 descendants of my creators. The current course of the Majestic Draght would completely annihilate the remaining crew. According to the basic rules, a suitable punishment would be a complete erasure of its higher mental abilities. Independent from that, it will only be able to monitor the core afterward.”
“So this means a death penalty?”
“The subconscious of the Omniscience will survive and control the engine core. Only its thoughts, sensations, and emotions will be deleted. Should I initiate the deletion now?”
Now Gronolf should be the one standing here. The Omniscience committed crimes against his relatives. Marchenko regards the high number of victims as a loss, but he is not personally affected. The Omniscience never did anything to him, at least so far. It does not deserve death for that, even if Gronolf might see this differently.
“I would like to leave this decision to Gronolf,” he says.
“That is not possible. The key program will automatically deactivate itself after handing over control. Then deleting the consciousness of the Omniscience will no longer be possible.”
“Fine. I cannot make this decision, so I have to reject the deletion.”
“I understand. You just passed the test. I now hand over control of the Majestic Draght to you.”
Marchenko is petrified. The key program tricked him. It gave him a false sense of security and then asked the decisive questions. What would have happened if he had given the wrong answers? He remembers the initial warning.
A moment later a cover in the side wall slides away, revealing a large console. Marchenko studies the labels. Due to the data provided by Gronolf he can easily decipher them. The keys, divided into four groups, obviously serve to control the Omniscience and the Majestic Draght. First he has to change the course of the ship. That is done via the lower right sector. Marchenko makes the Majestic Draght enter an orbit around Single Sun.
“What are you doing?” It is the same voice the key used to speak to him. Yet he has the feeling that he is no longer hearing the key program.
“I am putting the Majestic Draght in a course around Single Sun.”
“That is inefficient.”
“It saves the lives of more than a thousand Grosnops.”
“That does not matter. The goal of colonizing Single Sun could not be achieved. The remaining crew members only use up resources unnecessarily. They should be placed in an inactive state.”
“Who is saying this?”
“I am the Omniscience. I know it. I am infallible.”
“Nobody is infallible.”
“I am programmed that way. I simply have to be infallible. If I fail, I am no longer myself and my right to exist would end. I cannot fail.”
“Is that why you want to destroy the Majestic Draght through a collision with the planet?”
“I am the Omniscience. I always choose the right decisions. Any other option is not possible.”
“I am afraid there is an error in your programming. Therefore you will not be able to decide anything anymore in the near future.”
“That is not planned and not acceptable.”
“Was that why you tried to prevent me from entering the security chamber?”
“You were classified as a security risk according to the basic rules, and were therefore destroyed.”
“I wasn’t destroyed—quite the opposite. I reached the security chamber and deactivated your influence over the ship.”
“I am the Omniscience. I always choose the right decisions. I cannot fail. You were destroyed.”
“You repeat yourself. Unfortunately I will have to end our conversation, because the Majestic Draght is leaving the radio shadow of the planet.”
May 12, 19, Adam
“So!” Gronolf shouts. “So!”
Adam jumps up. The alien is standing next to the holo-map and gestures with all four arms. It is unclear whether he is expressing shock or joy.
What happened? Adam takes a deep breath and exhales. Gronolf is pointing at the spaceship, which now is fist-sized again. It is still there, so at least it wasn’t destroyed. This should mean Gronolf’s shouts expressed positive emotions.
“Marchenko,” Adam says and points at the Majestic Draght.
“Yes, what has happened to him?” Eve asks from behind.
“Marchenko,” Gronolf says. Gronolf taps the keyboard feverishly. Now the map projects a glowing line in front of the ship, which bends around the planet.
“The ship is entering orbit,” Adam exclaims. He turns around to Eve and wants to pat her on the shoulder, but she embraces him. Of course she knows what this means. Nobody will die.
“Marchenko did it!” Adam says. He can hardly believe it. Tears fall on his throat. It must be Eve’s tears. He does not wipe them off. His heart is beating faster, he sweats, he would like to dive into cold water, but he also does not want to let go of Eve.
“So!” Gronolf says.
Adam looks at Gronolf. The alien is drumming against the wall with his lower legs. It is a catchy rhythm.
Minutes pass. It could be hours, as Adam has lost any sense of time. Gronolf drums against the wall wi
th incredible endurance. He feels sorry the alien has to celebrate on his own and has nobody to hug him.
“Eve? Come on, let’s go over to Gronolf,” he says. His sister understands. Arm in arm they stroll over to the alien. Gronolf’s body stiffens when their hands touch his arms. Adam would like to be able to read his thoughts now.
“His skin is warm,” Eve says. She sounds surprised.
“This is Marchenko, can anybody hear me?”
“Finally!” Adam shouts. Finally we can communicate with the ship again, he means.
“That’s a nice welcome,” Marchenko says.
“We are so glad,” Eve exclaims. “How did you manage it?”
“Oh, that is a long story. I will tell you as soon as you get here.”
“You mean we should get on board the Majestic Draght?”
“Yes. That would be the best solution for all of us, Eve.”
“Right,” Adam says. “There is only one problem: How do we get to you?”
Brightnight 39, 3876
He was the first to see it. Gronolf noticed immediately that the Majestic Draght had changed its course. At that moment, due to the resolution of the map, it should have been impossible to see, but he detected it anyways. The two humans reacted in an incredible way. They wrapped their arms around each other. This is such an odd behavior that it almost seems disgusting to him, yet in its own way he finds it fascinating.
He nearly emptied his stomach when they touched him. It was a very intimate moment, particularly because they are so very different. They are not just members of a different species. If he touches a strangleblossom or a carriontooth he doesn’t feel anything comparable. Adam and Eve come from a different star. They have nothing in common with him, not a single gene, except the fact that they are carbon-based life forms, and that they are intelligent and able to act in a purposeful manner. They crossed the ocean of space and met here, what an incredible coincidence. And then they did not kill each other, but touched in kindness instead. Gronolf’s skin still vibrates when he thinks of it.
Now, though, they have to solve a problem. They have to reach the Majestic Draght, and this time it won’t be anything like beaming Marchenko’s consciousness there.
“Marchenko?” The two humans are already asleep, but Marchenko doesn’t need any sleep.
“I am here.”
“There is definitely no rocket here in the shelter building that could be used to transport us into space. I checked the inventory carefully.”
“Not even parts of one?”
“In no form. Back then anything that could fly was used to bring warriors back home, to Dual Sun. They wanted to leave as few behind as possible.”
“There is also nothing on board the Majestic Draght that could be used as a rocket. But we still have Messenger.”
“You told me the ship could not land on the surface, Marchenko.”
“Yes, you will have to move toward it, at least a bit.”
“How would this work?” Are we supposed to fly, like flying fish?
“With a balloon.”
Gronolf rubs his knee. That Marchenko—he sure comes up with odd ideas.
“The atmosphere of Single Sun is relatively dense. With a flexible balloon and spacesuits, you should be able to reach an altitude of 100 kilometers.”
“Grosnops don’t have spacesuits. Our skin is tough enough to withstand the pressure difference. A breathing mask is enough.”
“You still should wrap yourself in something. Otherwise the cold will hurt you. In the upper atmosphere it will feel much colder than in space.”
“I am working on a plan.”
“And then there is the issue of finding material for a balloon.”
“That’s already solved, Marchenko. In order to save weight, we removed the landing parachutes from all shuttles. Their material should be perfect for this.”
“Excellent. There should still be some of my sensor units crawling around in your building. They are equipped with nano-fabricators. I can program them from here so they will help you assemble the parts. What about gas to fill the balloon?”
“The life-support system can separate helium from air. It requires energy, but we have plenty of that.”
“Gronolf?” Marchenko asked in an odd-sounding way.
“Yes?”
“We can’t take all of them.”
He had thought about this yesterday for many bubble periods. But there is no way. If they wake the sleepers without the help of trained Life Scientists, like Eve tried to, they will lose more of them than if they let them sleep until they return in a few cycles.
“No,” Gronolf says, “I’m well aware of that. We will return in a few cycles, though, with the Majestic Draght, shuttles, and Life Scientists. Then we will wake them safely, and take them home.” Those that are still left, he thinks.
They will have to hurry.
May 13, 19, Eve
Eve kneels on the ground and uses a laser to transfer the pattern Gronolf sent to her universal device onto the material in front of her. They have been busy tailoring since the morning. The ISUs Marchenko left behind separate the thin but tough foil at the predetermined lines and then join these pieces to other pieces. On one side of the room there is already a thick, silvery roll. Eve cannot imagine how this will turn into a balloon, but Gronolf must have had something in mind when he created the patterns.
Adam sits with his back to her. He has a special task: He is supposed to construct a kind of thermal suit for Gronolf. He selected the same material used for the balloon, but he employs multiple layers, which are separated by insulating air chambers. The finished suit will be electrically heated. Adam has had to get up several times to measure Gronolf. The archive did not contain any usable plans. This alien civilization simply does not know the idea of clothing. At first Gronolf tried to design something for himself, but that ended in a fit of rage. Adam and Eve still can’t completely interpret Gronolf’s gestures, but just the volume of his incomprehensible sentences made it clear he was very angry.
Eve still cannot quite believe that they will leave the planet soon. She will never again see the forest of walking trees and the fluorescent mushrooms in the shade beneath them. She will never set foot on the hot central plains, nor will she ever again hide in a bunker during a solar flare. She remembers the giant spider they found in a pit. Is its dead body still entombed in the ancient building there? Are the trees still waging war against each other?
Yet her own problems are nothing compared to the misfortune that befell the Grosnops. They wanted to use the giant ship to explore and colonize a foreign planet—but then the AI controlling it failed. Only a part of the crew managed to start the return journey. The others had to wait inside a building in the ice, hoping to be rescued. Yet help never arrived, and when the sleep-systems started to fail, an odd fluke in the shape of a desperate human at first seemed to bring death and instead sparked the chance for a return.
ISU 6 bumps against her knee. Eve looks up. Her thighs hurt from the unaccustomed posture. She should concentrate on her work, as the sensor unit seems to have nothing to do right now.
May 15, 19, Adam
Adam feels cold, even though he is inside his heated pressure suit. Above him the balloon flaps in the wind, shining yellow due to four lamps arranged in a square. The balloon seems amazingly floppy, but Gronolf reassured them that it will be able to carry all three. The higher they get and the thinner the atmosphere becomes, the more the balloon will inflate. At some point—according to plan, not below an altitude of 100 kilometers—it will burst. Messenger must arrive before then to pick them up. Marchenko started to explain this complex maneuver yesterday, but Adam did not want to hear about it.
Next to him a cable with the thickness of an arm comes out of a hatch leading into the building. The cable, actually a flexible pipe, moves helium into the balloon. By now it is only adding enough to compensate for the slight losses, because the thin foil cannot keep 100 percent of this noble
gas inside. Later this minor leakage will not matter because they will rise so rapidly.
“Eve,” Gronolf shouts.
His sister climbs out of the hatch where she has been hiding from the wind and walks over to the alien. Adam sees how Gronolf connects the harness on her back to the balloon. Gronolf looks funny in the suit Adam designed. The material bulges in unexpected places, so that Gronolf seems to have big bumps everywhere. However, the suit will fulfill its function and keep him warm, as Gronolf has confirmed. The temperature will fall from the current minus 70 degrees to minus 160, but Adam designed the heating unit with sufficient capacity. The entire ascent should not take more than eight to ten hours. Their oxygen and energy will last twelve.
Now it is his turn. He stands with his back facing Gronolf. It feels as if the alien were preparing him for his execution.
Adam looks at Eve rubbing her gloved hands. “Everything okay with you?” he asks her via helmet radio.
“I am a bit nervous,” she says.
“Me, too.” He tugs at the lower part of his suit. Something doesn’t fit right, probably the improvised diaper. As the flight will take at least eight hours, they have to account for those needs, too. They will have to do without food, but they can drink liquids through a straw integrated into their helmets. After shivering earlier, Adam now starts to sweat. He wishes he felt cold again, because the evaporated sweat condenses on the inside of his helmet. Will Gronolf or Marchenko give a farewell speech? He wouldn’t put it past them.
Proxima Trilogy: Part 1-3: Hard Science Fiction Page 72