Stellaris: People of the Stars

by Robert E. Hampson

Dr. Hauff read out the name and I looked around expectantly, excited to see who was chosen. But everyone was looking at me. It was then that I realized the name that was read had been my own. At least willing cooperation wouldn’t be an issue, I thought darkly.

  Now to break the news to Alan.

  * * *

  Alan had not been happy at my winning this particular lottery. His protective nature railed against the thought of the potential dangers but held firm. If I tried to weasel out of it, everyone would think I had no faith in my plan. If I were willing to risk the future of the colony, then I must be willing to risk myself.

  “Molly, I…” his voice was thick with emotion. “Just be careful, please. I can’t imagine my future without you.”

  * * *

  Three weeks later, it was finally time for the human test to begin. I showed up at the medical wing to no small amount of curiosity. Everyone knew why I was here, and everyone wanted to know what would happen. Alan managed to get a few days off and was adamant that he would be staying by my side throughout the process.

  “So, Arun, this is the wrong time to tell you that I hate shots, right?” I joked. A mixture of nerves and excitement were making me talkative.

  The treatment I was getting had been tailored to my genetics to maximize effectiveness and minimize any possibility of rejection. All that remained was for Dr. Ramakrishnan to administer the series of shots, give me a fecal transplant pill, and keep me under observation for forty-eight hours. After that would come the CAT scans, MRIs, EKGs, and any other test the good doctor thought he could get away with.

  I swelled up at each of the injection sites, but topical antihistamines and an anesthetic cream kept it from being more than just a bit of discomfort. I swallowed the poop pills quickly while trying not to think about what they were. Over the next two days I felt a little something like heartburn on and off and a twinge or two in my lower abdomen, but mainly I slept. Or at least I tried to, despite the steady stream of medical personnel coming in and out of the room to collect data and samples.

  Every time I woke, Alan was there, waiting patiently. We would talk while I was awake, making plans for the future.

  Eventually Dr. Ramakrishnan came in with a wheelchair. He and Alan shifted me from the bed to the chair—despite my repeated protests that my legs worked perfectly well. Arun then measured me in every conceivable way. I soon felt I had more wires attached to me than most computer circuits. I wondered if my racing heart was skewing the tests.

  “Molly, the MRI is showing a slightly enlarged appendix like what we saw in the monkeys. Are you in any pain? Is there any tenderness?” Arun asked.

  “None, Doc. Imagine coming all the way out here to finally find a use for the appendix!” I laughed, hoping I was done with the medical tests.

  “Otherwise, Molly, you are in good health and seem to be showing no ill effects. It’s time for the final test. I have the medical team standing by.”

  “Okay, Arun,” I looked over at Alan. “Babe, will you wheel me over to the exit hatch and help me suit up?”

  “Yeah, and I’ll be double-checking your seals, straps, and air tank. I’m not trusting anyone else to do it.” There was no arguing with Alan on this.

  Even with another person there to help adjust the straps and run the air and radio checks, putting on a biosafety suit still takes time. After a final, lingering kiss, Alan sealed the last zipper shut. I moved to join the medical crew at the entrance to the room that housed the emergency exit.

  I keyed my throat mic, “Guinea Pig One is ready to proceed, over. Is Team Safety Net ready to proceed? Over.” I got a chorus of affirmatives from the four people on the medical team.

  The door cycled opened and we stepped through, then waited for it to close and seal behind us. The emergency door opened, and one by one we stepped through and out into the Thorbian sunshine.

  We only walked a few meters away from the habitat—still close enough if they had to drag me back inside for medical treatment.

  “Guinea Pig One in position, over,” I said using the radio.

  “We see you Guinea Pig One. Safety Net at the ready? Over,” I heard Captain Richardson’s voice respond.

  “Safety Net ready, Captain Richardson. Over.”

  “Proceed with the experiment. Over.” When I heard Captain Richardson’s command, I slipped my hands out of the oversized gloves of the suit and removed the ventilator from my mouth.

  Fumbling with the external zipper of my suit, a small part of my brain marveled at how calm I felt.

  Showtime.

  I began opening my suit, exposing myself to the Thorbian atmosphere.

  One breath, two breaths. I felt no closing of my throat, no racing of my heart. I continued to breathe for a few more minutes under the watchful eyes of the med team.

  I cued my mic. “This is Guinea Pig One. I feel no ill effects. Over.”

  In my earbud, I heard the cheers from the Safety Net team. This was it, we had broken free of the gilded cage. Now we could chase that far distant horizon—we would not just live on the planet, we could become part of it as it had become part of us.

  Biological and Medical Challenges of the Transition to Homo Stellaris

  Nikhil Rao, MD

  Nikhil Rao, MD, MSc (AKA Vindaloo Diesel) is a psychiatrist who works with critically and chronically ill kids, making him the only physician in the pediatric ICU who can dress up like Batman and claim it’s “for the children.” He also develops new psychiatric interventions for children with serious medical illnesses. Prior to medicine, he studied the evolution of monkeys, which are a lot like children, albeit hairier, followed by some time in the fitness professional community during which he proudly earned the dubious badge of “Strong for an Indian.” He’s unsure where his creative career is heading, but it probably involves a juvenile sense of humor, a sprinkle of profanity, and entirely too much math.

  INTRODUCTION

  In the next few hundred years, it seems likely that at least some of us will reach for the stars. Whether by desperation, aspiration, or simple curiosity, humanity has always reached for distant lands. Challenges and opportunities are manifold, and while often discussed at technological and social levels, the biological and psychological considerations are no less interesting or important.

  Unlike physics, and to a lesser degree chemistry, the science of biology and profession of medicine are only a few hundred years old in any substantive sense. Given medicine’s youth and the rapidity of change, even now, the coming centuries will doubtlessly generate technologies that will seem miraculous. Yet, certain biological realities and psychological imperatives are unlikely to yield to mere technology.

  Here we explore medical aspects of colonist selection, life aboard a slow-traveling colony ship, and the colonization process. We will also consider potential technological targets for intervention.

  THOSE WHO LEAVE

  The possibility of faster-than-light travel cannot be discounted, although presently no proposed technology or translatable mechanism exists. Quantum entanglement offers a realistic mechanism for instantaneous communication, but transmission of matter through similar means remains speculative to say the least. Thus, we will proceed under the assumption that while technological advances like solar sails or nuclear rockets may increase the speed of interstellar travel, it will remain frustratingly slow, with travel across light-years measured in decades or centuries at best. For similar reasons, it is best assumed that colonization missions are one-way trips, with resupply or rescue effectively impossible. Chosen individuals must be thoroughly screened, with a range of attributes which may not be immediately apparent (see Robert E. Hampson’s story, “Those Left Behind”).

  Technologies such as CRISPR/Cas9 already allow gene editing, with human trials of direct modification of the genome already under way for treating such diseases as cystic fibrosis. But there is a major difference between single-gene engineering and modifying the expression of complex traits such as intel
ligence, physical strength, or longevity. In the latter cases, hundreds of genes contribute, with gene-environment interactions and differential effects based on time and age of exposure. For example, over one hundred genes contribute to the expression of intelligence, and over a thousand to immune functioning. Consider also that epigenetics—changes in how strongly our genes express themselves in response to environment and experience—alters the simple inheritance of traits. A single episode of physical or emotional stress in infancy often leads to reduced intelligence and stature, emotional lability, and compromised immunity that may prove lifelong. However, in adolescence/adulthood, periodic episodes of physical stress (when in an appropriate recovery framework) promote improved functioning across those same attributes.

  Ultimately, most positive traits in humans are emergent functions of genes, environment, our interactions, and time. While gene manipulation and nanotechnology may modify these processes, potentially eliminating negative traits, they will likely not change the fact that human traits are ultimately distributed along a series of bell curves, even as science shifts the shape of those curves.

  Physical Robustness

  Obviously, anyone picked for such an arduous, resource-intensive, high-risk, long-term task must be physically healthy. The specifics of what that entails bear consideration. General “fitness,” longevity, and low risk for chronic debilitating disease go without saying, all of which, even now, are either directly measurable or predictable. On the other hand, health issues so mild they may be safely ignored on our home planet may turn deadly as we reach for the stars. The question remains as to what is “fit” and what is “ideal,” as different environments determine the optimal parameters.

  Immune Function

  Consider the immune and inflammatory system. Many people have mild seasonal allergies or a tendency toward contact rashes which, while aggravating, don’t severely impact daily function or overall wellness. Allergic response is not intrinsic to these otherwise benign substances in the environment; rather, the body aggressively inflames and destroys its own tissues in response to a perceived threat from “foreign” substances such as proteins on pollen, bacteria, or viruses. Extraterrestrial organic chemistry and potential life forms, being literally alien, will likely register as even more “foreign,” apt to provoke more severe, even deadly reactions.

  Mild immunodeficiency is surprisingly common. Many people who “get sick every year” with the same organism are clinically deficient in specific antibody or immune-cell function. Often, it’s the antibodies lining tissue exposed to the environment (mouth, eyes, gut) that serve as a first line of defense, which broadcast to other immune cells a virtual call-to-action. Considering the prevalence of immune deficiencies, the threat of novel extraterrestrial pathogens and the hasty evolution of Earthly pathogen stowaways, these normally inconsequential pathologies could turn deadly.

  Technological solutions, whether through genetic engineering or artificial immune systems, would have to grapple with the same issues of immune under- and overactivity.

  Physical Characteristics

  Skeletal robustness and muscle fiber composition essentially determine an individual’s optimal size. Muscle characteristics then dictate endurance capacity and relative raw strength. All of these factors impact colonization suitability yet are likely difficult to manipulate with significance through technological solutions. In addition, these same features dictate nutritional needs and metabolic waste.

  Since the earliest days of space exploration, ship volume and mass with respect to the available biological load have been key constraints on the distance and duration of the journey. Technology will impact cost and efficiency curves of these factors, but they will likely remain significant variables.

  Biological waste production aboard ships includes CO2 as well as liquid and solid excreta. The amount produced by an individual directly relates to caloric intake and energy expenditure. The more mass someone has, the more they will expend as a simple function of having more metabolically active tissue. Higher-mass individuals are often Type-II (anaerobic) muscle fiber dominant, resulting in higher rates of resting and active metabolic rates. Thus, nutrition, oxygen production, and waste turnover are heavily impacted by mass, meaning larger, more musculoskeletally robust individuals will be difficult to provide for both per unit of mass and per individual.

  Finally, target planets are likely to vary considerably in climate and gravity and early colonists will likely have to deal with these elements (or adapt to them) to some degree, regardless of what habitats and shelter they bring with them. For example: Heat production is a simple function of metabolic rate. Heat dissipation and retention, however, is a function of surface area to volume ratio; density retains heat. A classic example of adaptation to environmental extremes is the short-stature, thick-torso Inuit who hail from icy terrains, versus the long and lanky Masai of the hot, dry savannah.

  The gravity of a colony world will likewise have physical implications. We know from prior space missions that microgravity of just a few months duration can dramatically affect biology, sometimes yielding beneficial effects and sometimes, not so much. Sustained conditions in higher gravity will have several anticipated harmful effects. The heart does its work against gravity, either directly (as in cerebral flow) or indirectly through the lower circulation. The venous system must be able to maintain tension and competence against the blood contained within. When this process goes awry, we develop varicose veins, stasis ulcers, and clots. Connective tissue is also affected, with the strain of gravity amplifying the degenerative weathering of arthritis and tendinosis. Taller individuals will struggle, while more gracile individuals of any height will be ill-equipped for the extra apparent weight. It is difficult to imagine the optimal human build for a very warm, high-gravity world. Perhaps such worlds would be poor targets for colonization.

  Lighter gravity imposes fewer constraints on colonists’ builds and increases potential physical performance discrepancy. Relative gait or strength differences in differently sized individuals would become greater absolute differences. And, with enough time, colonists inhabiting lower-gravity worlds will assume less dense, less resilient bone tissue, which while perfectly fine on their planet, may constrain or prevent travel to higher-gravity planets; and, if artificial gravity continues to evade us, circumstances might limit them to slower travels due to lower tolerance for spacecraft-provided thrust.

  SHIPBOARD LIFE

  Regrettably, based on current knowledge, colony ships are unlikely to achieve velocities at any appreciable fraction of light speed. Given a maximum of 0.1c—achievable by solar sails and fusion propulsion—a trip to Alpha Centauri (with no proven habitable planet, but likelihood of such estimated at eighty-five percent) would take an estimated 130 to 150 years, well beyond the current human lifespan.

  Lifespan

  Molecular biology and medicine have taunted us with numerous longevity breakthroughs, none of which have survived from the short-lived mouse model to long-lived humans. While we broadly understand determinants of aging and chronic disease, operationalized interventions with meaningful results remain elusive. Some significant factors implicate telomeres, endcaps of chromosomes, that shorten with each cell division, bringing us ever closer to the day our bodies are unable to replace senescent cells.

  Telomerase, the enzyme that facilitates telomere lengthening, is useless to prevent nerve and muscle-cell aging. Those cells, with few exceptions, are the ones with which we were born. In such cases, cellular repair mechanisms simply cannot outcompete the inevitable damage, whether by mechanical means, toxins, or exposure to space hazards. Spontaneous gene mutations also wreak havoc. One mutation may allow a single undetected cancerous cell to become an incurable tumor or render a crucial cell lineage ineffective. These processes are targets for longevity technology advancements through a myriad of current and potential modalities such as direct intervention (gene editing) for more robust cell protection mechanisms, monoclonal
antibodies ridding the body of anything cancerous or otherwise mutated, or through nanomedicine working to manage the toxic byproducts. The latter intervention is particularly important when one considers that most dementias are related to buildup of substances in the brain that the body simply cannot eliminate. Technological process will certainly lead to longer, healthier lives. However, achieving biological immortality, or individual lifespans compatible with a multicentury journey aimed at transporting the original crew to terraform and colonize a new world, is not yet clearly within our grasp.

  Microgravity and radiation health concerns

  Since the dawn of human spaceflight, we’ve seen how microgravity and radiation correlate with a range of health concerns, with rapid deconditioning occurring within days to weeks. Intervals of relative weightlessness, as seen with Mir and the International Space Station, pose other problems. Notable changes associated with microgravity include rapid bone-density loss, accelerated atherosclerosis, and thus greater heart attack/stroke risk, kidney impairment, and intracranial pressure changes, which may accelerate age-related brain and ocular damage. Many such factors relate to losing gravity’s prominence in organizing passive directional movement of various body fluids and, unfortunately, on-board strength and endurance training will not likely prove entirely effective at mitigating these risks. We will almost certainly require some mode of gravity replacement, even something as simple as rotational or thrust-induced methods.

  Shielding will be paramount in any future missions. The primary current limitation on simple physical shielding is the cost of placing mass in orbit. We must solve this technical limitation before constructing colony ships. Other solutions, such as using hollowed-out asteroids as shields or as hulls, or developing artificial magnetic shields are worth considering. We understand the processes to execute the latter, and improvements in technological accuracy, transmission, and power production will likely make this possible.