by James Lay
Chapter 5
They spent a very restful period with the gentle slurping of their 'computer-made' beer. Carl had even managed to get the beer down to his desired level of alcohol,. 9%, about Class 1 for the continental beers. Pat gave him a queer look, but he's a tolerant chap.
“You're a ruddy dildo Carl, that's not beer now.” He observed.
“Try it.” Carl suggested.
“One sip, no more,” and taking a sip, he took one more,” no friggin difference as far as I can tell,” he said,” but I'll stick to my brew, thanks very much.”
“George, are you around?” Carl asked the air.
“Yes.” Came the soft reply.
“Tell me, do you read our minds?” He inquired.
“Oh no, that is totally impossible, I purely pick up shapes, pictures, and thousands of words, both in thought-speech and in the written form.” George explained.
“Then how do you know what we are thinking when you're talking to us?” Pat asked.
“Well Pat, as you speak and I speak to you, there is a concentration of, how shall I put it? A concentration of 'understanding-transmission' from you, complete with your speech and written words and full colour pictures, thousands every second. With the electronic intelligence I have, I can pick up that myriad of transmissions and separate, or isolate, those that relate to the subject under discussion. I can therefore speak very accurately for you to completely comprehend, as far as your understanding goes, everything I say.”
“I would call that extra sensory perception.” Carl rejoined.
“No Carl, It's nothing like that,” George countered,” for me to carry out ESP is not within my abilities, or any other being we have ever met. You are purely a radio transmitter on one general frequency and I am able to receive those waves. But your waves are like every different transmitter on your planet being received at the same time, it is a horror of noise. I can play back your thoughts if you're interested?” Offered George.
“That does sound interesting,” said Carl,” shall we have a listen Pat?”
“Why not, let's hear ourselves George.” Requested Pat.
“Very well,” added George,” but you are going to be two disappointed people. Here you are.”
What followed was a rumbling stutter of criss-cross half-formed words and noises, with pops and a massive background roar.
“I see you were not expecting that at all,” as the noise vanished and George carried on,” you can now see how difficult it would be to carry out any ESP with that, and you are unable to control the noise. Your mind races faster than any circuit-intelligence and needs only the beginning of a word or picture before the other thousands of brain areas overlap with their bits of information. ESP was delved into by the Yil, my constructors, and many thousands of them died from total insanity during the attempts. These attempts at ESP covered many tens of thousands of your years.”
“Surely if you know our waveband you can send to us.” Carl noted.
“Oh yes, I can send to you but you don't have the facility to receive the waves. You are not a living radio, if you could receive the waveband, you would soon be unconscious because your range of transmission is in excess of many thousands of your miles. Imagine receiving the thoughts of tens of millions of minds at the same time and not being able to shut them out. That was as far as the Yil managed to progress with their experiments, they were horribly destructive tests.”
“We won't be bothering with that guff,” said Pat,” you're doing all right as far as I'm concerned George, we'll stay with that”.
Carl nodded in agreement.
There were so many blank places Carl had yet to fill in, with regard to their being in the Junction. Some questions had to be answered.
“George?”
“Yes Carl.”
“How did the crew die, what was the cause?”
“They had to go into deep sleep, absolute hibernation, whilst the ship repaired itself.” Answered George.
“So why'd they die.” Asked Pat.
“I cannot give you a positive answer to that. The record is a complete mess, perhaps I should explain what happened to the ship and you can draw your own conclusions.”
“That's a good idea,” Carl agreed,” I was going to ask that anyway.”
“The whole problem stemmed from the fact that the ship turned into anti-matter. I see you are aware of that material. There must have been some outlandish occurrence during a jump that turned the ship anti-matter wise. I have no record of this ever occurring before or the possibility ever being postulated.” George paused, as if for breath.” It is necessary to explain, in terms easy to adjust to, what anti matter is like. Imagine a l00,000 volt capacitor, a very large one, the positive terminal is normal matter, the negative antimatter, and then charge up the capacitor and connect the two terminals and an enormous release of energy occurs, with massive destructive force. The ship turned into the 'negative-terminal', for no recorded reason.”
Carl butted in here,” If that's the case, why didn't the ship destroy itself in our atmosphere or when it landed on the ground, it would have contacted the 'positive terminal'.”
“That's a good point Carl and very easy to explain. With the hyperspace distances the Yil travel, they are constantly colliding with particles of anti-matter. It was necessary to allow this material to pass aside or to destroy it on site. Both methods are used, it's simply a well groomed force net that is part of the ship structure. The very same force is what holds this Junction together and forms the dome above you.”
“You mean that's not glass up there.” Jumped Pat.
“That's quite correct Pat. There is no material there at all. It is purely a force field.” Answered George.
There followed a stony silence. No material of any sort, only an invisible field of force, no wonder it was so clean. There was bugger all between them and deadly vacuum.
“Do not be worried Carl, Pat, the force field has never faltered in 122.8 million of your years. It has even been struck by a two thousand-ton rock. No problem.” Was the encouragement from George.
It was still a disconcerting feeling.
“The ship - if we go back to the malfunction,” George continued,” was now anti matter and in complete disarray in its internal structure and electronic circuitry, nothing was as it should have been. It could not be controlled by the crew. The crew had confidence in the re-growth capability of the ship, so they retired to deep sleep, which it appears, was a gross error, but they had no one to advise them. It was a pure error of judgement. They perished within two hundred years, when the re-growth ceased the deep sleep support mechanism, the crew would have experienced no distress. They died in their sleep.
“What a way to go,” said Pat,” but they had to go into this deep sleep device or they would have died of old age anyway, wouldn't they?”
“Just so Pat, the Yil choose to live about one thousand of your years and the re-growth procedure would have killed them from simple boredom because there is nothing to see whilst it is going on. There is no record of what took place. I can only surmise that the anti-matter was slowly drained of its 'anti' energy until it turned into normal matter but I have no history of this ever being achieved by Yil experimentation. It is such a volatile material. During this re-growth, the ship collided with your planet, where you found it.”
“This re-growth you're talking about,” butted in Pat,” what's that involve?”
“The ship and everything on it is grown from a basic design, or blueprint. The ship outer skin is very much like your human skin, it attaches to itself and the grown frames. The structure is grown in manageable sizes and then placed together and it holds itself in that position, with total joining, l00% face contact with no mechanical joint. It's put together with separate coded instructions, those same codes can be selected and the individual pieces unlatch themselves and can be removed. The structure is of massive strength, it is, as far as we have experienced virtually indestructible. The che
mical formula of the structure varies to the incoming environment. It changes itself to suit the conditions.”
“Why are you taking it apart then if it's so bloody good?” queried Pat.
“The structure checks itself for conformity to its own blueprint about every two of your years and any deviation from the basic chemical co-ordinates causes an internal re-calibration of the structure to be carried out, self repair and adjustment to basic. This particular ship has suffered a serious experience that should not by rights have happened. It was a very serious malfunction. Due to this malfunction, and there is no trace of it on the record; the ship has not been re-calibrated since the event. It is seriously out of calibration and has suffered some unacceptable mutations. These are nearly corrected. The ship will go back together in about two weeks and internal shakedowns will begin. These will take a couple of days. Has that explained matters for you?” asked George.
“I followed enough of it to get the general drift. What about you Pat?”
“As long as the bloody thing's ok when I get in it it's quite alright by me. I thought all this sci-fi stuff was a load of kids crap once, I'm a reborn person now and that's for bloody sure.” Pat murmured.
“We have time for another period of instruction, a very short one, if you agree.” Intoned George.
“I thought we had to wait 24 hours.” Said Pat.
“That's true Pat, but this one lasts only two seconds and will present no problem.” said George.
“What's it about George?” Carl asked.
“It is the complete list of equipment on the ship, clothing, safety equipment, communication devices, tools and the like.” Came back George.
“What about weapons and space suits and stuff like that?” Asked Pat.
There was a pause, not the usual period, in George’s usual monotone, as if he was stuck.
“We do not have weapons,” came George’s voice, eventually,” at least, not the sort that terminate life, we have the muscle inhibitor which you have experienced, the tangle web which is a nervous system short circuiting device and various other disabling generators, but no 'basic-model-red-grenades' and,.….” George was in trouble, it came out in his voice,” what is a space suit, I cannot understand what I am receiving?”
“You're a space wizard and you don't know what a ruddy space suit is,” laughed Pat,” I don't bloody believe it. It's the thing you wear in a vacuum. Keeps the lack of pressure from killing you. Surely you've got em. Haven't you?”
“Now I have it. What a terrible device. No Pat, we don't have the clumsy 'space-suit', as you put it. I spoke of the force field we use above you, to separate you from the vacuum, you will have an identical device worn on your person. It forms a force field barely one inch thick, around your extremities.” Finished George.
“Where's the air for breathin come from.” Pat bounced back.
“Oh, one minute.” Was George’s reply. It would appear he had hit another problem, but no, George carried on.” This is not an easy subject and I will have to be very basic. Wherever you are in space, either in a vacuum or in liquid nitrogen, there are chemicals and nutrients. Put simply, the force field generator, or your ‘suit’, absorbs everything it receives on its surface area, anything, and converts it into your bodily requirements, air, food, everything. It then expels the unwanted waste, all waste, not just the carbon dioxide but the solids you release. It forms everything into basic atoms and then recombines the atoms into your requirements. Do you follow me Pat, Carl?
“I've got the horrible suspicion I understand what you're saying,” said Pat.” Do you mean we breathe and eat our own waste products, left over beer for instance?”
“Exactly put yes, just that, I can see you will have some adjustments to make in yourselves to accept this concept. Believe me, it is not as sordid as the pictures I am receiving, especially the used beer, no Pat, there are no tubes that you drink from. It's in its atomic state. You won't even see it.” Explained George.” There's a slight problem about space breathing. If there is not enough matter around, you will not actually breath. You will hold your breath, in total safety.”
“That’s a difficult one to consider,” Carl said”How does it work exactly?”
“I really do not know Carl, that was my hesitation, I can only give you the basic basics. I do not have the design or operational blueprints.”
“How do you service the thing then?” asked Pat.
“It is not serviced. It is an atomic life-form in its own right. It grows and re-grows, like the ship. It will become part of you the instant you place it on your person. It is slightly larger and flatter than the Casio you are wearing Carl. It is powered by everything, you, if there is nothing else about, but that is not likely. It has reserve power, at full strength, of well over one of your years and that is at full power, which would only occur if you were in a blast furnace or near the surface of the star close to us.”
“That sounds like what I want to wear after all.” Said Pat.
“I suppose it protects against hard objects as well?”
“That is correct, the object, be it a rock or you falling, would have to travel faster than four of your miles per hour to be resisted. If it is travelling slower it can pass through the screen but would be resisted totally if it attempted to damage your person. Like a crushing weight, it would be identified either physically or from your brain waves, whichever came first. I can see you have a question Carl and I note the subject. Can I prepare and answer it after you have received the equipment instruction?” Asked George.
“Fine,” said Carl,” usual frames?”
“That's correct, and the usual procedure.” Affirmed George.
The instruction was as short as George had promised, although Carl’s was a little longer, he had blinked and had a blink added to the length of the instruction. Now they knew where everything was, even where the crew had died. They realised that they were next to them when they were in the corridor area of the ship, back in Brunei.
There was one item that held Carls’ interest. It was a power pack to carry out the Extra Vehicular Activity, EVA, when outside the ship in space. It was minute, everything was Casio watch size and this piece plugged into the 'space-suit' unit. Carl was now reviewing what he knew of the unit. It was capable of limited space 'jumping', the hyperspace jump that is. From such a small object.
“Yes Carl, I read you, how do you jump in hyper-space. The answer to that, for me, is very simple, I just do not know. But wait, I can again give you the basics. This is going to be very short. The space jump equipment is connected to the force field and is an integral part of the ship and your body structure, on the atomic scale. When you are in the ship or you have your EVA you are atomically coded. As you select the jump the module will, without changing your atomic structure, and there's the contradiction, will rearrange your atomic structure until you lose all mass, you, the ship, everything has absolute zero mass. Because you are without mass you are not affected by inertia. The propulsive force of the ship or the EVA is of a power of magnitude greater than the power of a galaxy, it is impossible to measure, it is so great. That power moves you, mass-less, from A to B in 'no-time'. The theory of relativity doesn't even come into the equation. You jump 10, 20, l00, light years at 10 p.m. from A, and arrive at B at 10 p.m. relative to A. No loss of time on either side. The perfect and unexplainable method of travel. Developed by the Narl race thousands of years before the Yil were allowed its use, until they had proved their ethical integrity, or they had achieved intelligence and culture.
“Thanks George, very interesting, but what is the power force.” Carl asked.
“That is a question that, not only the Yil cannot answer, but the designers have no idea either. The Narl just found it. Many of them died from it. They simply went into Hyperspace drive whilst seated at the test bench, never to be seen again. They were unprotected as well. The proverbial snake eating the tail problem.
“Will we be able to jump by accident?” W
ondered Pat.
“Yes Pat, you can, that is why you have to follow the procedures you hold in your memory. You do have them I know, am I correct?” Asked George.
“Oh, I've got em alright, and intend to never forget them either, and that's a bloody fact.”
“I don't think we will have any worries on that front George.” Carl backed up Pat's assertion. The power pack was one piece of equipment he would treat with reverence.” Is it easy to damage?”
“Oh no, it can only be worn with the EVA equipment and therefore is virtually impervious to outside damage. It is tamper-proof as well and personally coded to the wearer when issued and can be operated by that person only, for evermore. It will never be able to change ownership.” Assured George.
“All avenues covered, it sounds like,” Carl said,” I fancy a bit of food. How about you Pat?”
“Can't argue with that.” Said Pat.
It would appear they had made their base of operations the observation dome, because they very rarely left it. Time tended to drag a little - after all - there was practically nothing to do but watch the sun and planet.
George suggested they study the ship but was countered because they didn't fancy the 'hovering' workshop. He then suggested an audio-visual system as an approach to ship familiarisation.
“You've got a bloody video,” blurted Pat,” what films you got?” Before realising what a useless question he was asking.
“Yes Pat, there are films, over 200,000 of them but I hardly think they would be of interest to a non-Yil. Would you like to try one?” George asked.
“Sure let's give it a go.” Said Pat.
The screen was not a screen and the video player wasn't in sight. A section of wall and clear dome ahead of them went opaque and a Yil film started. It was in English, obviously translated for their benefit. Even the mouths of the Yil formed the correct shapes.
It was their first view of the Yil. They were human height, about l.85, but they had quite short legs and long bodies. Their arms were normal, with five digits and nails and everything. Their faces were a copper brown colour and the skin looked tough but their features were very human, maybe a little like the old weatherworn desert Arabs.
The film was interesting. It showed Yil-land. Neither Carl nor Pat had bothered to find out the Yil's home planet name. They later found out it was called Yil,....surprise.
There were scenes of the countryside and seas and sky. Both the latter being blue, as Earth.
The females were not very attractive, same weathered leather skin, similar figures to human girls, interesting......
The film was a mass of information, no real story, but plenty of facts about vehicles, clothing manufacture, plant upkeep, cooking-yuck, all in the story.
“George.”
“Yes Carl.”
“How long is this film and what's it leading to.”
“The 'film' will run for 3 of your years, it is the standard Yil format of information through interest.” Answered George.
“Bloody hell,” exploded Pat,” you mean there's no story only information?”
“Quite so Pat, all the Yil 'films' are like this, just presented differently.”
George was a mine of emotion and reasonableness. Nothing ever got to him.
“Hey Carl, I don't fancy any more, what do you say?”
“Just what I was thinking,” he agreed,” thanks George, you can turn the show off now please.”
It faded away and they were left with their quiet space gazing.
They did eventually locate some quite pleasant Yil music, like classical heavy metal. Both Carl and Pat liked it and so it was left on, to play without stop for two and a half weeks, without any repetition, magical.
They had just completed their final instruction, the navigation of the ship through hyperspace and normal space. Not a subject to be taken lightly. Carl was expecting a whole day, it was over in forty-five minutes.
“Is that it?”
“Why yes Carl, what were you expecting?”
“About a days instruction, that's what.” He answered.
“Well, as you now realise, the main navigation is automatic, you only need to be able to understand the universal sphere.” Was George’s reply.
The universal sphere is a three dimensional view of space where you simply draw lines with a type of mouse. You then either preset your 'waypoints', George had no other term for them, or allowed them to be recorded on arrival and then you pressed the go button. There were two buttons, the ones Pat and Carl had operated in Brunei, or you could 'agree' to have only one. They would most probably have one.
“Instruction over gentlemen, well done.” Congratulated George.
“And no headaches.” Retorted Pat.