New Eden

by Kishore Tipirneni

  Vinod became defensive. “No way dude! These bad boys are all SSDs with a PCIe interface running RAID 10 storage. They can handle the data transfer rate.”

  “Are you two speaking a foreign language?” Rachael asked. “Or is this nerd-speak for mine is bigger than yours?”

  Vinod clutched his chest and pulled out an imaginary dagger. “Rach, you know these are my babies. Show some mercy.”

  “I sometimes forget, papa,” she said, touching his arm gently.

  “Acronyms,” Joshua explained. “It’s about speed—flash disks, interfaces, disk striping, and the like. Anything to increase the amount of data and the rate at which it’s transmitted. His babies, as he puts it, are thankfully fast. Screaming fast, in fact. I don’t think that the algorithm could run on anything slower given the consumption rate.”

  A doubt suddenly popped into Joshua’s mind that terrified him, something that he should have thought of before. “Vinod, please tell me that your computers are quarantined. They’re not hacking the Internet or anything, are they?”

  “Hacking? The Internet? Another insult!” Vinod replied, removing a second imaginary dagger from his chest. “My algorithm and computers don’t need the Internet to work their mojo. Rest easy, doc. Both my computer and the storage devices are completely isolated. No external communications networks are involved.” Vinod gave Joshua a thumbs-up.

  After the next ding, the screen indicator showed PROGRESS: BIOLOGY. A new line of text appeared beneath the timeline: SUBCATEGORY: PROTEINS.

  “Appears that they’re going in a specific direction,” Rachael said.

  Ding.

  “Very specific,” Vinod reiterated. “Like I said earlier, the algorithm offers different pathways at almost every data point. And hey—look at the new subcategory. In a matter of seconds, they jumped to deoxyribonucleic acid. DNA, man. That’s what I call looking at the details. If they’re going into subcategories, it means we’ve piqued their curiosity bigtime.”

  “My God!” Joshua exclaimed. “They understand DNA? The double-helix?”

  “If they can learn calculus, chemistry, and physics in such a short time, I don’t see why not,” Vinod replied.

  “Then they know how a human being is made,” Joshua stated. “A bit disconcerting.”

  Vinod laughed. “If they’re this fast, who’s to say they can’t build one themselves?”

  “And to think we were worried that this process might take too long,” Rachael remarked. “They’ve condensed centuries and decades into minutes. But maybe we’re giving away a little too much info.”

  Another ding sounded from the computer.

  “Paydirt!” Vinod exclaimed. “It’s a moot point, Rachael.”

  The onscreen indicators now read LANGUAGE and VOCABULARY respectively for category and subcategory.

  “Damn and double damn!” Vinod said, unable to contain his emotion. “They made it all the way through to the final stage—language!”

  Words rapidly appeared and disappeared at the very bottom of the screen until they changed so quickly that they were only a blur to the three figures huddled around the table.

  “It was definitely English before the words became an unintelligible stream,” Rachael said. “I’m positive. They now possess the lingua franca for communication if that’s what they opt for.”

  “I don’t believe what I’m seeing,” Joshua said. “They’re absorbing the entire English language in a matter of seconds. How is that even possible?”

  Vinod seemed at a loss for words. At last he said, “I don’t know, man. This is exactly what I programmed the algorithm to do—exactly—but this exceeds my expectations by several orders of magnitude. Maybe we’re talking to alien computers.” He paused as the thought suggested another possibility. “In fact, maybe the two sets of computers are working out a new algorithm of their own in order to communicate faster.”

  “Can they do that?” Rachael asked. “They’re just computers!”

  “Computers here on Earth talk to each other all the time,” Vinod answered, “although not with this level of sophistication, so it wouldn’t surprise me. They could be establishing a common language of their own. Who knows? We may get left out of the loop completely before this is over.”

  “Let’s not jump to conclusions,” Joshua warned. “Contact has been initiated, but there’s been no conversation yet.”

  “That we know of,” Rachael added with a cautionary note in her voice. “If it’s machine intelligence on the other end, then maybe they’ve developed a simpatico that we can’t detect.”

  Vinod, Joshua, and Rachael were getting apprehensive. What were they dealing with? A species that could absorb physics, chemistry, and biology in a matter of minutes? Rachael reached out and took Joshua’s hand in hers. He turned to look at her as he squeezed, but her eyes were fixed on the screen, as if hypnotized by the constantly-changing text.

  “I really do hope this is some kind of machine intelligence we’re dealing with,” Vinod said. “If any alien biology is capable of crunching data this fast, then it plain freaks me out. What’s the analogy in all those sci-fi flicks we’ve watched over the years? They might be as far above us as we are above the ant.”

  Another ding caused Vinod to point to the screen with outstretched arm and index finger. He swallowed hard before speaking, as if he couldn’t get the words out. “Look! They . . . they . . . made it to the final step.”

  The subcategory now read SENTENCE STRUCTURE.

  There was one last ding.

  The indicator arrow now pointed to PROCESS COMPLETED as the drives to Vinod’s computers stopped lighting up. The sphere was still glowing green, but not as brightly.

  “Completed?” Joshua and Rachael said simultaneously.

  “Whew!” Vinod said. “I thought we’d be here all night—maybe for a week on and off—but . . .” He had no words to finish his thought.

  Joshua seemed to be in a daze. “Instantaneous communication—between stars, no less.”

  “Can we talk to them now?” Rachael asked.

  An air of suspense—almost electric, like static electricity—filled the room, and no one answered for several seconds. It was Vinod who finally spoke.

  “Theoretically, yes,” he said. “I just need to open the com window.”

  Vinod pushed several keys, causing a black window to appear on the center screen, a blinking cursor waiting for words.

  “Well?” Joshua said.

  The screen remained black for an entire minute.

  “C’mon!” Vinod urged. “C’mon!”

  “Nothing,” Rachael said. “Did they simply want to gain information about us with no intention of actually using it? Have they terminated the link? Maybe that’s their gig—consuming information for a cosmic library. Perhaps we’re totally insignificant to them. Maybe we really are just ants to them. A curiosity.”

  The screen remained an ominous black.

  Vinod smacked his forehead with his palm as he thought of something he had forgotten. “Oops,” he stated as he started typing on the keyboard. “I forgot to switch the source of the com window. I have it connected to the USB bus. I’m switching it to the Thunderbolt 3 bus—now.”

  At last, brief text appeared on the screen.

  Rem: ‘Sup? I’m Seth.

  16

  Live Stream

  Joshua, Rachael, and Vinod took a moment to reflect about what was happening as they stared at the screen. There was no sophisticated message, no formal greeting, no dignified tone from the disembodied voice. The letters on the screen were from the English alphabet, but the abbreviation was unknown to Joshua or Rachael. They had made first contact with an alien intelligence, and yet someone or something was speaking to them using a spookyon—and with a most peculiar word, if that is indeed what it was. Eager to learn more about their collocutor, Rachael and Joshua grabbed two chairs and sat on either side of Vinod in front of the computer screen, shoulder to shoulder.

  “What does �
��sup’ mean?” Rachael asked.

  “Um . . .” Vinod began sheepishly, “I think it’s short for what’s up.”

  Joshua and Rachael glared at Vinod. “What dictionary did you send them?” Joshua asked.

  “Webster’s English Dictionary,” Vinod replied hesitantly.

  “And?” Rachael asked, knowing there was more to his answer than he was revealing since she could read his inflections instantly.

  “The urban dictionary,” he said with an innocent shrug.

  “Nice job, Vinod!” Rachel said sarcastically. “First Neil Armstrong proclaims that we have one small step for man, one giant leap for mankind. Now, thanks to Vinod Bhakti, we have ‘sup originating from alien intelligence. The history books may not treat you kindly.”

  “It seemed like a good idea at the time,” Vinod said, ignoring the rebuff. “I mean, it’s a spookyon, not the 2001 monolith.”

  Rachael turned her attention back to the screen. “What does REM mean on your display?” she asked.

  “It’s an abbreviation for remote,” Vinod answered. “When we send information, the screen will display LOC, meaning local, but who the hell knows why he chose the handle Seth.”

  “What’s done is done,” Joshua said. “They’re waiting for a response.”

  “What reply should we make?” Rachael asked.

  “How about a simple greeting and our names,” Joshua suggested. “Something simple, like you suggested earlier.”

  “Should I use ‘sup’ like he did, or just hello?” Vinod asked.

  Irritated, Joshua glanced at Vinod. “How about you just say hello. Let’s try to move this conversation a little more formal assuming your algorithm has the ability to go beyond the vernacular you sent.”

  “Your call,” Vinod said as he typed. “And yes, they should be able to extrapolate variations on syntax. It’s part of the program’s learning feature.”

  Loc: Hello, Seth. There are three of us here. Joshua, Rachael, and Vinod.

  Rachael and Joshua exchanged glances. Their names had just been transmitted across light years, although it was anybody’s guess as to how far the actual distance might be since the concept of light years was irrelevant to quantum entanglement.

  A reply was made immediately.

  Rem: There are lots of us here. We’re a collective, but you’re speaking to Seth. I’m connected to the collective.

  “A collective?” Joshua asked. “What the hell does that mean?”

  “You’re a Trekkie too, so think in terms of the Borg,” Vinod offered. “If that’s the case, let’s hope that they’re not mean, impersonal bastards waiting to assimilate the human race.”

  “I can’t believe that Seth is his real name,” Joshua said. “Is that something he came up with himself? You may have sent him the urban dictionary, but whoever we’re talking to didn’t grow up on the south side of Chicago.”

  “Only one way to find out,” Vinod said, busily typing again.

  Loc: Is Seth your actual name?

  Rem: Naw, something I picked from the stuff you sent me. My real name’s digital and wouldn’t make much sense to you. We rap with each other digitally using the particles.

  “Rap?” Joshua asked. “As in—”

  “Yes, I think he means to communicate, as in he’s talking to us,” Rachael said as she glanced at Vinod. “Still using parts of the urban dictionary, I suppose.”

  “Thank God the New York Times isn’t peering over our shoulders,” Joshua said.

  Rem: You got a name for the particles?

  “No doubt he means the spookyons,” Rachael surmised.

  “Yeah, I didn’t include the term spookyon with the science stuff I sent them,” Vinod replied. “He gets straight to the point, but there’s no secret on either end on how we’re communicating. It’s entanglement. Let’s give him the nickname for the particle and see what he makes of it. It certainly wasn’t in the urban dictionary.”

  Loc: We call them spookyons.

  Rem: Spooky. Yeah, I’m down with it, though I don’t know why you chose that word.

  “Ask them when their spookyon was created,” Joshua suggested. “No time for a history lesson on Einstein.”

  Loc: When was the spookyon that you are using to communicate with us created?

  Rem: Its origin is primordial. Shortly after this universe began.

  “My God,” Rachael said in an excited voice. “It’s like what we thought, Josh. There were spookyons created by the Big Bang. The universe has a built-in communications network!”

  “He just confirmed what might have taken decades to prove,” Joshua said.

  The trio stared at the screen and tried to determine their next response. “Vinod, find out where they are. I want to know if they can tell us or not.”

  “Logical question,” Vinod said,” but I don’t think they’re going to say turn right at Orion. Let’s give it a shot.”

  Loc: Where are you?

  Rem: In your universe, but I can’t be more specific. There’s no common reference point between us. No way to tell you.

  “I thought so,” Joshua remarked. “They could be anywhere in the universe. By the same token, they have no way of knowing where we are, which means there’s no way they could physically come here.”

  “That’s a relief,” Vinod replied. “No Independence Day scenario.”

  Joshua looked at Rachael, and they both recalled her theory of a creator making a universe in which communication was the norm rather than physical travel between the stars. He would have to give her musings more thought when he had time, but time was a luxury he might not have for a while.

  “I want to know more about this collective Seth mentioned,” Rachael remarked. “What’s that about?”

  “A collective is usually a group of individuals that are somehow connected,” Vinod replied. “It refers to a hive mentality where individuality may or may not be present. For example, a beehive is a collective.”

  “Scary,” Rachael said. “It’s like science fiction.”

  “I’ll try to scope out more details,” Vinod said.

  Loc: How large is your collective?

  Rem: Over thirteen trillion individuals.

  “Shit man! What the hell!” Vinod exclaimed. “Thirteen trillion. That’s incredible!”

  “Kind of scary, if you ask me,” Rachael remarked feeling suddenly apprehensive. “Thank God they don’t know where we are. Earth would be slightly outnumbered.”

  “I wonder,” Joshua said, “if they’re incredibly small. Standing five to six feet tall isn’t a requirement for intelligence. Otherwise, they’d have a population crisis on their hands.”

  Loc: How does your collective work? How are you connected?

  Rem: Each individual is connected via a spookyon to eight other individuals who in turn are connected to eight others. In this way, we’re all connected. My thoughts flow to all of the individuals in the collective and theirs’ to me, but I’m able to restrict this thought flow to myself or only other specific individuals if I want. Currently you are communicating to the entire collective. Any individual in the collective can restrict information flow or disconnect altogether, but only for limited periods of time.

  “We got Seth to open up a little and give us some specifics,” Joshua said. “This looks promising.”

  “Promising? Jesus man, they’re using spookyons to speak to each other,” Vinod said excitedly, “and we’re live streaming to thirteen trillion of them from my study!”

  “Not really surprising that they’re using spookyons,” Joshua replied, calmly assessing the situation, now very much the detached scientist. “As we’ve said all along, it’s the fastest form of communication. No time lag. One thought or idea from one individual can instantly be transmitted across their whole collective.” Joshua reflected for a moment. “This must also mean that they’re able to create their own spookyon pairs to connect the individuals in their collective. Is it possible that they could have captured thirteen trilli
on primordial spookyons and their pairs? Seems unlikely.”

  “Who knows what they’re capable of?” Vinod asked rhetorically. “They soaked up a lot of data very quickly.”

  “I think Seth was hinting that they can create their own spookyons when he labeled the one he’s using to communicate with us as primordial, meaning created by the Big Bang,” Rachael added. “They must have another way of describing spookyons that they created themselves.”

  As someone familiar with information theory, Vinod contemplated Seth’s description of their collective. “The architecture of their collective is really remarkable. It’s an amazing network if you think about it. Each individual is really a node that can inject information into the network but can also act as a relay on the network. And each node may be able to store information as well. Man, it’s an unbelievably redundant and robust information distribution system. I wonder how Seth’s connected to us. What’s our interface to this collective?”

  Loc: How are you communicating with us? What is your interface to the primordial spookyon?

  Rem: Each individual in the collective also contains numerous other spookyons, primordial ones. We use them to send a carrier signal looking for other forms of intelligence. I’m lucky. My signal was found by you.

  “There you go, bro,” Vinod said. “Each one of these beings does have primordial spookyons.” He looked up at Joshua. “They can harvest at least thirteen trillion spookyons created by the Big Bang as well as create their own. It suggests that they’re a race of extraordinary capability. Master engineers perhaps.”

  “Vinod, Seth’s showing some appreciation that we contacted him,” Rachael said. “Let’s reciprocate the gesture.”

  Joshua recalled Rachael’s earlier reference to the affable Mr. Rogers and her suggestion that they exhibit a simple, nonthreatening gesture. He nodded his agreement.

  Loc. We are also lucky to have made contact with you.

  Rem: Thanks. Are you also a collective?

  “Well, that’s a tough one,” Rachael remarked, pondering the question. Humans were definitely individuals, but with the advancements in communications, they were more and more becoming a collective, though not one with the sophistication of Seth’s culture. “I guess we are kind of a collective. Even more so in the digital age. It’s hard to stay off the grid unless you’re a complete hermit.”