Bernard's Dream: A Hayden's World Novel (Hayden's World Origins Book 8)

by S. D. Falchetti

  All three of the Sunflowers talk to the drone, sometimes stepping on each other’s conversations. Fortunately, Ananke can listen to all three at once. They talk for sixteen hours today and state the same parting message before jumping back to the ring. Now, Ananke and Willow have enough of a lexicon created that they feel comfortable modifying the translation interface to display both the Stars’ literal responses and the likely English equivalents. The simplified English version of the Stars’ parting comment is The Stars are empty and are leaving.

  After the Sunflowers leave, James magnifies the image of the orbital ring and the Star ship. All of the damaged areas are repaired on the ring except for one. The lone damaged area is still opened to space, and all work appears to have stopped. The Stars working there have either returned to the surface or flown over to the Star ship. A few of the diamond-shaped containers have been flown up from the surface to the Star ship. It doesn’t seem like the Stars are resting, but instead, it’s like they’ve reassigned the ring resources to the ship. As a captain, James recognizes a ship that’s in distress, and a sense of worry tickles the back of his neck.

  The next day, anticipation fills the air as everyone assembles on the bridge. James watches the clock tick away in the lower corner of the display. 07:14 - NOV 3 2094 LOCAL / NOV 28 2102 SOL / Mission Day 31. When it ticks to 07:15, the three Sunflowers return. The lead Sunflower says: Query / (conditional) / Promise / (topic particle) / (direction particle) / (status particle) / Human (recipient particle) / Origin-source-nullpoint (direction particle).

  James raises his eyebrows. He’s been reading enough of their literal translation besides Ananke’s English equivalent that he’s getting fairly good at understanding Star. “They started with a question. They’re ready to talk.” He looks over at Willow. “Are we ready to respond?”

  “Here’s where it gets challenging,” Willow says. “We have over twenty-thousands mapped with about nineteen-hundred in the high-confidence band. We can also answer questions by showing things on the drone’s screen if we don’t have words. We can probably talk about as well as a grade-school student.”

  “Looks like they’re asking where we’re from,” James says.

  Beckman gives James a sidelong glance. James knows what he’s thinking.

  “They understand star charts from our tests,” Isaac says. “We can show them the Sun’s relative position and Earth’s orbit.”

  “Tactically,” Beckman says, “I don’t think it’s a good idea to give away our home planet’s location.”

  James weighs his opinion. “Yeah, the thought’s crossed my mind, too, but they’ve already been there. At least, they’ve already been to Janus. Plus, we’re at their doorstep. It’d be different if we bumped into them in interstellar space. I think we have to establish trust if we’re going to talk, and we know where their place is, so we should pony-up ours.”

  “I agree,” Ava says.

  Beckman takes a deep, disapproving breath.

  “Can I speak directly and have Ananke translate?” James says.

  Willow nods. “I suggest answering only what is asked, as if you were in court. It will help with context.”

  “Okay, let’s tell them we are from Earth and show them an image of Earth and the star chart.”

  Ananke translates the statement into: Water Planet / (topic particle) / drone (object particle) / show (action particle) / diagram-map-chart (direction particle) / Yellow Star (object particle).

  Of course, James thinks, there is no Star word for Earth, and it’s not like they can spell it for them. So, it’s Water Planet until the Stars give them a word for it. He wants to ask them where they’re from, but he’s worried that if they decline, it will close off the conversation early, so he lets them lead for a while.

  The Sunflowers evaluate his response and star chart. A brief chatter occurs between them. Now that Promise can speak Star, they can listen in. “Ananke,” James says, “what are they saying to each other?”

  “Most of the words are not in our dictionary. They are talking about an ice world that is six point five light-years away. I believe it is Janus.” Ananke says.

  James squints. “They have a word for light-years?”

  “No, but yesterday we were able to agree on distance and time units by using Sao’s orbit as a time unit and the speed of light as a distance over time unit. Once I had that, I could convert their distance and time units into meters and seconds, or, in this case, light-years.”

  The lead Sunflower stops its chatter and addresses the drone. Ananke translates it for context: What is the purpose of Promise coming to Sao?

  “Going right for the big questions,” James says. “Okay, respond, ‘We are explorers. The purpose is to learn.’”

  Ananke transmits: Promise / (topic particle) / Water Planet (direction particle) / Sao (recipient particle) / understand / (action particle) / knowledge-data-abstract / (object particle) / diagram-map-chart (action particle).

  They don’t have a word yet for explorer, so Ananke has done her best saying Promise came from Earth to Sao to gain knowledge and create a map.

  The Sunflower speaks again, and Ananke translates and simplifies: What other stars have you mapped?

  James nods. “We have explored Proxima Centauri and Alpha Centauri.”

  Ananke describes them as two yellow stars and a red star, showing their positions on the star map.

  The Sunflower responds: Proxima Centauri is damaging from x-ray radiation. Stars ceased there. Alpha Centauri has (unknown word / unknown verb ). Stars ceased there.

  “It’s a common experience,” Willow says. “You should build upon that.”

  James replies, “Promise also encountered damaging x-ray radiation at Proxima Centauri and needed to leave. Promise and Humans were damaged at Alpha Centauri A by life on the third planet and needed to leave.”

  There is chatter between the Sunflowers again. Ananke says, “I don’t know most of the words, but they appear confused.”

  James cocks his head, squinting.

  The Sunflower says: Show the image of the third planet around Alpha Centauri A.

  James nods to Isaac, and Isaac says, “Transmitting.” An image of Astris appears in the drone’s video feed.

  The Sunflower says: Show the image of the life that damaged Promise on the third planet around Alpha Centauri A.

  James nods again, and Isaac transmits multiple images of the Mimic as it appeared from orbit, on the ground, and after it had emerged from the ground. In the final image, the Mimic is like a flying mountain trailing massive black, arched columns.

  This image is the life? the Sunflower asks.

  “Yes,” James says.

  Statement is untrue. The Mimic is not alive. There is no life on Astris.

  James shakes his head, puzzled.

  “James,” Ava says, “we shouldn’t assume they have the same definition of life that we do. Let’s test it by showing them other life from Astris.”

  “Oh,” James says. “Isaac, cue up some plant and sea creature images from Astris and send them over. Ananke, ask them if they classify any of these images as life.”

  The red plants of Astris and weird dreamcatcher-shaped underwater creatures index on the display. After the Sunflowers evaluate them, their leader responds: No. These are not alive. These are replicating matter.

  James narrows his eyes. “What are your criteria for life?”

  The Sunflower doesn’t hesitate to respond, and the response seems to go on for an extended time. After a moment, Ananke says, “Its response was a long string of quantum physics and math terms. It’s hard to translate because it’s mainly equations, but their definition is based on intelligence and how intelligence is organized. To be alive, it needs to be a quantum intelligence organized above a minimum complexity.”

  “Well, now that’s a sticking point,” James says. “They probably don’t view us as alive.”

  “Based upon the definition they provided, probably not,” Anan
ke says, “although they probably view me as alive.”

  “I have a feeling I should let you do the talking, then.”

  “They may be assuming that everyone in the ship is a quantum intelligence.”

  “Let’s find out,” James says. “Ask them if they consider humans to be alive?”

  The Sunflower responds: Yes. We observed your quantum intelligence when we were near your ship.

  “All right,” James says to Ananke, “let’s leave that one be for a bit.”

  What is the purpose of you remaining at Sao?

  “Seems like we’re going to have to talk about the attack at some point,” James says. “Tell them, ‘We could not leave because their sphere damaged our ship.’”

  The Sunflower rotates in place for a moment, then replies: Our ring was damaged by your ship.

  “Why did the Stars attack Promise?”

  The Sunflower flashes: Others have come to Sao to take our ice.

  “You thought we were coming to take your ice?”

  Yes.

  “Could you understand our signal?”

  No. Your signal was high-energy radiation. Others have used high-energy radiation to damage Stars. You used high-energy radiation to damage Stars. How do you make high-energy radiation beams?

  “The UV communications laser we used,” Lin says. “They thought it was an attack.”

  James scratches his chin. “That’s unfortunate.”

  “Looks like they’re asking us how to make lasers,” Hitoshi says.

  James says, “Tell them, ‘Do the Stars wish to trade knowledge?’”

  No, the Sunflower says, Humans’ status is unknown.

  He was somewhat glad that was the response. After all, the Stars’ status is also unknown, and he wasn’t keen on teaching them how to make energy weapons. He still wants to ask them where their home planet is, but this seems like the wrong time. He looks over at Willow. “This is the point where diplomacy would kick in, and we’d both hopefully apologize for shooting each other. Do we have any way to do that?”

  Willow shakes her head. “We have no words related to emotions, feelings, or states of mind. We can’t say I’m sorry, or I wish it had been different. The best we can do is say that humans seek no harm.”

  “Let’s roll with that. Ananke, respond, ‘Promise seeks no harm. Can we assist with repairs to the ring?’”

  The Sunflower says: Stars are making parts. Ring cannot be repaired until parts are made.

  James pauses. “Your ship seems damaged. Can we assist your ship?”

  Ship needs ice. Ice comes through ring. Ring needs parts. Parts will take two hundred and thirty-six hours. Ship will have no ice in one hundred eighty-two hours. Ship will cease. Humans cannot assist.

  James furrows his eyebrows, troubled. “Will the ship restart after the ice is supplied?”

  No. Ship is alive. Ship will cease. Nothing can restart after cease.

  James looks over at Ava. She also seems upset. He glances back at the screen. “Can the crew live on Sao?”

  Small time. Stars will cease before new ship comes to Sao.

  His stomach sinks. He understands now. Sao is a resupply depot for the Stars, and when he damaged the ring, he sealed the fate of the forty-eight Stars aboard that ship.

  “The humans need to talk,” James says. “We will assist the Stars.”

  You cannot assist the Stars. You cannot make the parts any faster than two hundred and thirty-six hours.

  James quirks his head. “Humans have a knack for finding ways around big problems. I’m going to have you talk to our engineer now.”

  Hitoshi’s eyes widen.

  James looks at Ananke’s screen. “Ananke, I know we probably don’t have words for half of what I just said. Just do your best in the translation.” He adds, “Okay, ask them to tell us everything they can about what their ship needs.”

  Hitoshi rubs his forehead, squeezing his eyes closed.

  “Are you okay, Tosh?” Lin says.

  It’s just after dinner, and they’re both floating in the Planetary Science Lab. A few hours ago, the Stars agreed to let them fly their drone to the ring, which enabled anytime-communication. The Stars have assigned one of the Sunflowers to Hitoshi and one to James. While James has been chatting with his own personal Star, Hitoshi has spent the entire afternoon talking with his. Both Stars are talking through the drone interface, with Ananke turning it all into understandable English.

  “It’s nearly impossible,” Hitoshi says.

  Lin smiles. “Nearly impossible is partly doable.”

  “Oh, great. We can make motivational posters after this.”

  “C’mon, Tosh. Rise to the challenge! It’s an engineering problem with an alien species. How awesome is that?”

  “Yes, but it’s not like we’re making a little toothpick bridge here for a competition. We’re talking about moving one hundred and fifty gigagrams of ice.”

  “Well, when you say it like, it sounds like a lot.”

  He holds both of his hands out. “It is a lot. It’s a frickin’ glacier. No wonder they built the ring to jump it up.”

  “Think out of the box, Tosh!”

  He sighs. “I suppose we should give James a call.”

  “Yeah, let’s get the bossman up to speed,” Lin says.

  Hitoshi taps his workstation. “Hitoshi to James.”

  The coms dings, and James appears. He’s still sitting on the bridge. “Hey, Hitoshi. How’s it going?”

  “Okay. Kind of. So, I wanted to take you through what we know.”

  “Shoot.”

  “So, the surface facility is a refinery. The off-shore platforms separate deuterium and tritium from seawater. The separated products are combined with some other additives and frozen onto an engineered slat. I didn’t quite follow how the slat worked, but it has some type of mesh and permeability and a mechanism that melts the ice along its interface to distribute the water correctly to their ship. They seemed to stress that you can’t just bring ice to the ship and that it only works with the slat.”

  “You got all of that tech detail just with the words we’ve translated so far?” James says.

  “Yeah. These guys are super chatty for anything related to science or engineering, and Ananke gives them diagrams anytime we’re not sure what they’re saying. I guess common science principles make it easier to talk.”

  “Okay. So this is the ice we see on the outside of their ships?”

  “You got it. Twelve slats are encircling their ship. Each is the ship's full length, two hundred and ten meters long by thirty-one meters wide, and the block of deuterium-ice that sits on top of it is fifteen meters tall. So…math…one fully-loaded ice slat is sixteen-point-eight million kilos. All twelve together are two hundred and two million kilos.”

  James looks rightfully surprised. “Well, shit, Hitoshi.”

  “Yeah, that about sums it up.”

  He pauses. “They’re using the ring to get it up?”

  “Right. They can’t lift it, so they’re teleporting it. Seems like it’s related to the tech that lets the Stars jump, but different. The tower is coupled to the ring in some way and can only jump things to it. With the ring damaged, the tower can’t jump. When I started asking questions about how it worked, the Stars clammed up and didn’t want to talk about it.”

  “How about the damaged ring parts?”

  “The problem parts are the coupled ones. First, they’ve got a whole daisy chain of nuclear reactions to make the elements they need. They start by converting molybdenum into molybdenum-99, then they have to wait for it to decay into technetium-99m, and then for that to decay in technetium-99. The decay times are the part of the process they can’t speed up. After that’s done, there’s a whole process to couple the parts to their counterparts in the tower.”

  “I understand why they don’t want to share their tech, but it makes it hard to help.”

  “The vibe I got is that the nuclear decay rates are a constan
t, and there’s no way to make nature hurry up. If we were back on Earth with the right equipment, there are some things we could do to bump up the decay rates, but not out here.”

  “I don’t suppose we have any technetium onboard?”

  Hitoshi smiles. “There’s a bunch in the underwater Boomerang wreck back on Alpha Centauri.”

  James smirks. “Probably not going to hit the deadline if we fetch that.”

  “Uh, no…but, weirdly, the Stars and Boomerangs both have this in their tech. Seems like they’ve figured out something we haven’t. Technetium-99 doesn’t even occur naturally. On Earth, we have to make it, just like the Stars.”

  “You have any ideas on ways to help them?”

  “I don’t know. Maybe we can get some more information about why the Stars can’t survive long on Sao, and there might be something we can do there. If I could get them to talk about why their ship needs the ice, there might be an alternative. Other than that, we’d have to figure out a magical way to get two hundred million kilos into orbit.”

  “If there’s anyone who can work magic, it’s the two of you.”

  25

  Cages

  It’s just after midnight on Mission Day 32 with Hitoshi, Lin, James, and Isaac on the bridge. The Stars’ ship will die on Mission Day 39. There isn’t much time for a solution. James has sent the rest of the crew to bed while his group brainstorms. Ananke is here, her hologram sitting at the science station.

  The bridge screen looks like an engineering schematic. Lin has created a basic computer model of the Star ship, the ice blocks, and the slats the blocks are attached to. Equations and physical properties extend from each diagram. Consumption rates for the ice blocks are connected to timelines showing when the ship will go dry.

  “Yeah, we asked them that,” Hitoshi is saying. “The number they quoted was with their ship at minimum consumption.”

  “And the Stars can’t fly up any water?” James says.

  Hitoshi shakes his head. “No. The slats have a filament mesh that extends through the ice. I think it’s a bit like a circulatory system. There’s some sort of filtration and chemical process that happens there.”