The Death of the Universe: Hard Science Fiction (Big Rip Book 1)

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The Death of the Universe: Hard Science Fiction (Big Rip Book 1) Page 22

by Brandon Q Morris


  It was a long way back to the interior, but he had almost reached the bridge. The butler was moving slowly. He had kept finding infrared traces on the floor of the corridors. Someone warm-blooded had walked along here, and it could only be the Curies. They didn’t know he still existed, and it had to stay that way, so he must tread carefully. They must have been moving around in the archive while he was searching for them outside. Maybe they’d deleted more data?

  Then he heard Pierre’s voice.

  “Don’t do anything stupid,” he said.

  Pierre was speaking very loudly. The butler chanced a glimpse around the corner. The Curies were standing at the bridge, which was still down, with their back to him.

  He had to talk to Zhenyi. The butler looked for a place to hide, but there was nothing—only the bend in the corridor. If the Curies turned to go back to their ship they’d find him.

  “What do you want?” asked Zhenyi.

  “Just that you accompany us,” replied Marie. “I’m sure we’ll get along fine.”

  “I need water for him first.” She must have meant Kepler.

  “We don’t need him, just leave him there,” said Pierre.

  “I’m not moving one step without him.”

  “You have to believe her,” said Marie. “She’s a woman. It’s the way we are.”

  “Fine,” said Pierre. “See this? I’m throwing you a bottle.” A metallic sound, then something rolled across the platform.

  A groan could be heard, followed by gulping sounds. “Thanks,” Kepler said.

  “Can you stand up?” asked Zhenyi.

  “Why? Is the...?”

  The next few words couldn’t be made out. The butler guessed that Kepler had been about to ask about him, and Zhenyi must have put her hand over his mouth.

  “Yes, the criminals are back,” said Zhenyi.

  “What do they want?” asked Kepler.

  “To take us with them.”

  “Oh, right. Yes, I think I can stand up.”

  “Can you move a bit faster? We don’t want to miss our big event,” said Pierre Curie.

  “Don’t panic, darling, we still have a few megacycles,” Marie said soothingly. “Let’s go. You’ll go ahead. Our shuttle is already waiting.”

  The butler heard a squeaking sound. The bridge was raising itself again. That was the sign. Soon they’d come along the corridor. He had to hurry.

  The butler stole noiselessly toward the exit. Once there, he ran until he reached the shuttle. This is going to be a wild ride, he thought, and clung on behind the engine cover. Puppy hoped his titanium fingers were strong enough to hold his body in place during the launch acceleration.

  Cycle ZX3.8, Terra

  That had gone more smoothly than expected. Pierre Curie stretched the arms of their shared body. He couldn’t sense Marie’s presence. She was still asleep. Marie was a night owl, a typical morning grouch, but he liked to start the day early with some exercise. That had been a disadvantage when they still had two separate bodies, but it had since blossomed into a positive. You didn’t always get along when you were together day and night, but this way he had the morning to himself, and Marie had nights. The body stayed fit because he exercised more, and they still had plenty of time together.

  Pierre got up and showered. Marie always slept soundly, so he didn’t need to hold back. She simply uncoupled her senses from the body’s perception organs and had complete peace. He dried off and walked naked back into the bedroom. There he stood in front of the wardrobe and opened the doors. Various suits hung inside it, as well as dresses. He usually made the decision about what their body would wear, being the early riser.

  Sometimes Marie wanted to look pretty. Then they would select one of the custom-made dresses together. Their body was more or less androgynous—that had been a conscious decision when they had commissioned it from Paracelsus. He selected a white shirt and a dark blue suit. They had guests after all, even if they weren’t aboard voluntarily. Then he placed the gun into the jacket’s inside pocket, as he always did.

  The wardrobe door clicked shut. Pierre checked the fit of the shirt in the mirror. The collar was hidden under the jacket, so he pulled it up and adjusted it before making certain a precisely equal amount of cuff showed at either wrist.

  He could already hear noises in the control room, which was decorated to resemble a comfortable living room. It had been Wang Zhenyi, the astronomer, who had first set them on the right track. They should actually be grateful to her. Without the Herbae, they would pretty much never have been able to implement their plan. Aside from Terra there wasn’t another computer capable of doing the calculations for their simulations. On the other hand, Zhenyi was now doing everything to prevent the grand finale. So it would be best to eliminate her immediately.

  But then they would have a boring flight ahead of them. Marie and Pierre Curie had decided to try to convince Zhenyi of their mission during the journey. It would be the crowning glory of their plan if their arch enemy ended up agreeing with them! But of course, they didn’t expect it to work. Zhenyi was exceptionally clever, but she was imprisoned by her old-fashioned morals. What use was that kind of outlook when you were facing the end of the universe?

  “Are you really this afraid of us?” asked Zhenyi, pointing at the box hanging around her neck.

  Pierre looked at her. He suppressed a smile. They had hung a device around Zhenyi’s neck, and its twin around Kepler’s, and claimed the devices would kill them if either were taken off or went within ten meters of the other. Of course it was nonsense, but it had obviously worked. That’s what their guests were like. They believed what you told them. They clung to words. But what were words? Sound waves formed by speech organs. They had no more value than the kinetic energy they were made of.

  “Are you refusing to talk to me?” asked Zhenyi.

  He had completely forgotten about her, even though she was standing in front of him. How could I do that? What did she just say? Then he remembered. “We’re not afraid of you,” Pierre said. “But if you’re alone you’ll feel weaker and won’t think of doing something stupid.”

  “You’re honest, I like that,” said Zhenyi.

  She brushed a strand of hair out of her face and smiled. The smile seemed to be completely genuine. He had to be careful. Zhenyi might have recognized that Marie was still asleep. She was obviously trying to wrap the man in this body around her finger.

  “No, I’m not honest,” he said, “at least not in principle. I say whatever is good for us.”

  “For us—do you mean Marie and you? Isn’t it boring always having to speak of we? There are so many other possibilities.”

  Zhenyi gracefully tucked another strand of hair behind her ear. Pierre smiled, and this time he didn’t resist. The woman was good. She was a worthy opponent. “First of all I need a coffee,” he said. “Would you like to join me?”

  “No, thanks. I’ve already had breakfast, so now I need to let Kepler have his. But if you would deactivate this device, then it would be my pleasure to accompany you.”

  A little victory. He had managed to get her to play along. “Feel free to go to your room, Zhenyi. I’m sure your friend is hungry. We’ll have plenty of time to talk before it’s all over.”

  “What’s our actual destination?” asked Zhenyi.

  “S0-122, a neutron star near the center of the Milky Way. You probably don’t know it.”

  “A bit of sight-seeing before we all die?”

  “No, we have a message to deliver. I promise you can be there when we do.”

  Cycle ZZ6.1, S0-122

  Was this supposed to be torture? Zhenyi was traveling in the same ship, but he hadn’t seen her now for a whole week of onboard time. They spoke over the com system in their rooms. Kepler tapped on the device hanging on his chest. It hummed, but not so loudly that it disturbed his sleep. It had occurred to them that the boxes might be fake. But the Curies were capable of either—the psychological torture of making them we
ar alleged proximity-detonated devices, or their double murder using genuine explosive devices.

  And the other question was, why were they being kept alive at all? They didn’t seem to have a practical value to the Curies. And what could have happened to the butler? Was he still on Terra? Or had he managed to sneak on board? Surely he would have contacted them by now...

  “I’m going to my room,” Zhenyi reported over the onboard radio.

  Kepler breathed deeply. Hopefully the Curies weren’t in the control room. He wouldn’t mind eating lunch in peace. If need be, he would eat in his room.

  But upon entering the control room he stopped at the door, fascinated. Half the room was occupied by a huge hologram. It clearly showed the system they had just reached. In the middle a tiny gyroscope spun at an incredible speed. It was pulling a vortex of magnetic fields after it. The fields were actually invisible, but they were depicted here in reddish tones.

  “You have to see this!” he called to Zhenyi on the com system.

  “I’ve got it on the screen in my room,” she answered.

  With a gesture, the Curies invited him to come nearer. He obeyed and walked up to the edge of the hologram. The magnetic fields swirled past, directly in front of his belly.

  “Impressive, isn’t it?” said Pierre’s voice. “The chunk in the middle is not quite as heavy as three suns.”

  Kepler nodded. The Curies obviously couldn’t take credit for this, so he freely acknowledged how powerful this vortex was. It was like someone had pulled the plug out of the cosmic bathtub. But, unlike a black hole, nothing flowed into the center here.

  “We recently transformed this system into a neutron star,” said Pierre.

  What? That was usually something only great architects could accomplish. The Curies? But why would Pierre lie about it?

  “Marie’s currently over there, modulating the rotation,” explained Pierre.

  “Your wife’s on that star? That’s degenerate matter, no one could survive there.”

  “We’ve found a way.”

  If that was true, the Curies were not only mad, they were mad geniuses. To be on the surface of a neutron star—what he would have given for that experience!

  “And what does she intend to do there?” asked Kepler.

  “I told you, modulate the rotation.”

  “I don’t understand.”

  “Wait a moment, I’ll explain it to you. I just have to send her the data.”

  The hologram was hit from the side by a stream of green. The stream integrated itself into the magnetic field vortex. Shortly afterward the vortex illuminated alternately red and green. Kepler located the stream just before it hit its target. He could make out four alternating conditions. A base-four data stream... what did that remind him of? Why weren’t they using binary, which was the usual practice? Then it occurred to him. There was another information storage system based on four units—DNA.

  “Could that be DNA information you’re transmitting to the neutron star?” asked Kepler.

  Pierre Curie spun around.

  Bulls-eye! thought Kepler.

  Pierre smiled. “Good spotting,” he said. “You’re very observant. You can probably guess whose DNA it is.”

  Of course. They were transmitting their own DNA to a neutron star that would later be swallowed by a black hole, which would explode the universe. As he’d thought earlier, the Curies weren’t just geniuses, they truly were crazy.

  “You’re insane,” Kepler said. “I knew it.”

  Pierre didn’t seem bothered by the insult. “It must look insane to you, I completely understand, because you don’t know the plan behind it.”

  “Oh, we know you want to destroy the universe by ripping it out of its metastable state.”

  Pierre’s smile widened. “That’s only half the truth. To create something new, you have to tear down the ruins of the old. This universe had a birth defect. Otherwise it would have given rise to more intelligent lifeforms. We’re going to correct this error and create a new universe.”

  “You’re hoping for a new Big Bang?”

  “We’re certain that a new Big Bang will follow. The universe behaves cyclically.”

  “And if it takes forever?”

  Pierre laughed haughtily. “If there’s no universe, no time passes. Time is part of the universe!”

  “But the new result will be just as random. Maybe the next universe will have even more unfavorable conditions.”

  “That’s possible, which is why we’ve taken precautions. You’ve just become a witness, Kepler.”

  “The information you imprinted on the rotation?”

  “Information doesn’t get lost. We calculated it with the help of the Herbae. When the neutron stars we’ve created fall into the black hole, the information will be transferred to the inside of the event horizon, where it will survive even the subsequent destruction of the universe.”

  “And how is that possible?”

  “It’ll be imprinted on the inaugural conditions of the newborn universe, and thus influence its parameters.”

  “But why are you transferring your genetic code, Pierre?”

  Pierre smiled broadly. “Our DNA will be readable in the background radiation of the new universe. At some point, someone will read out the code, recognize it as genetic information, and recreate us out of pure curiosity. That way we’ll have survived the apocalypse. And thanks to our capabilities, we’ll be gods in the new universe.”

  “I knew you were insane.”

  “You just don’t think big enough, Kepler. That’s why our idea sounds crazy to you. We actually see ourselves as saviors who will finally get the recognition we deserve.”

  “Saviors?”

  “Yes, saviors from small-mindedness and boredom, and from the tribulations of a long, drawn-out death.”

  “But I don’t want to be saved.”

  “You’re lying, Kepler. Admit it. The death of the universe makes you just as depressed as almost every other human.”

  “That might be true. But self-aggrandizing assholes like you make me outraged!”

  Pierre Curie sat down, planted his elbows on the table and rested his head in his hands. “You bore me, Kepler,” he said. “You’re so predictable. I actually expected more of you.”

  Cycle ZZ6.1, S0-122

  The ninety-niner was drifting without propulsion around a neutron star. The butler measured the surface temperature of the object. It must still be relatively young. The supernova that produced it couldn’t have burnt out very long ago. He’d spent the whole time motionless in the cargo bay where the landing module now stood. But now the ship was transmitting data to the neutron star. That meant the Curies might be distracted. It was time to make contact with Zhenyi and Kepler.

  The butler carefully tried removing his fingers from the metal, but had to forfeit one of them in the process. The lander had become so intensely hot during the launch that his finger had melted to its hull. Luckily it was only his left ring finger. He swung his head around and registered the damage. That could be quickly repaired with the right equipment. He climbed down to the floor of the cargo bay. There was some gravity—about half that of Earth. The ship must be rotating.

  The butler tried to orient himself, but this was disrupted by the fact that his head was hanging upside down from his elongated, flexible neck. He’d really like to repair it, but it would have to wait until he had access to nanofabricators. Instead he adjusted the software of his visual system. The world flipped 180 degrees and he could now see everything the right way up in spite of his dangling head. That was better.

  The ninety-niner was a different model than the one Zhenyi owned, but the layout was similar. Starting from the back were the propulsion drives, then the cargo bay in the middle, and right up front the control room, where the crew must be. But the ship wasn’t accelerating at the moment, so he couldn’t differentiate between front and back.

  He needed information. The butler searched the loading b
ay and discovered a console. It was requesting a password. Shit. The Curies’ ship was secure, but not secure enough. He opened the electronic unit and looked for the data connection. Then he placed two fingers on the cable. Every query would now go in the direction of the control room. That’s all he needed. He simply queried the status of the cargo bay. The fact that the query was coming from the cargo bay itself was nonsensical to the computer system. But he wasn’t interested in the answer, he just needed to know where it was coming from. If he knew where the central computer was located, he could find the control room.

  So, the console was exchanging data with the control room. And now he knew where the front was. He climbed up the wall to the ceiling, loosened an air vent, and made his way along the life support system ducts.

  A few hours later he was crammed in the air extraction duct above Zhenyi’s cabin. His head was mottled black and blue, having bumped against so many corners and edges. His skin layer simulated the behavior of human skin, but he didn’t feel any pain from it.

  He watched Zhenyi. He had to be careful to not startle her into making a loud noise when he climbed down. That could give him away. So he first let a bit of hydraulic fluid drip through the air vent. Zhenyi soon noticed it. She got off the bed, bent down, touched the fluid with her finger, and smelled it. Then she looked up. The butler waved at her and she smiled. He placed a finger over his lips.

  The air vent was fastened with four screws. He loosened one after the other and then held the grating so it didn’t crash to the floor. He carefully passed it down and Zhenyi took it. He thought about jumping but decided against it. He scuttled across the ceiling and down the wall, which was less noisy.

 

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