Helium 3: Fight for the Future

by Brandon Q. Morris

  Keep me up to speed, he drummed on the line connecting the command web to the tracking station. I want to be notified immediately when something happens on the planet. The aliens certainly didn’t fly there to enjoy the view. They are up to something. I want to know what it is!

  The scout waved his mandibles in a gesture of compliance.

  Kasfok slid out of his command web and left the central station. He was annoyed that the relaxation provided by Female Number 17 was already wearing off. It was time to plan for the inevitable space battle. There was no doubt in the Netmaster’s mind that the aliens would be turning to the gas planets sooner or later. They certainly hadn’t come to this system, expending huge amounts of energy for their braking maneuvers, simply to explore a small rock planet little different from so many others throughout the galaxy. Only the extremely rare existence of several gas giants at a significantly useful distance from their sun could have drawn them here.

  Kasfok would make sure that the aliens would never win this battle. He made a decision.

  We need more data, he tapped out onto the thread connecting his command position to one of his officer’s workstations. We’re too far away for detailed observation. We need more precise information about what the aliens are doing there. Prepare my pod. I will fly closer to the inner planets together with a team. I need to learn more about the aliens and their technical capabilities to develop an attack plan.

  The officer confirmed the command. Just a few pulses later, a reconnaissance craft, equipped with highly sensitive measuring instruments and high-resolution sensors, was released from the flagship’s hangar. Netmaster Kasfok, along with some officers and scientists loyal to him, would be advancing to the orbit of the fourth planet. From there they could observe what was happening on the inner planet—from this distance, it would be possible to study the aliens’ activities more closely.

  The small ship shot away at top speed. Kasfok was confident that in just a few pulses, he’d have enough information to be able to work out an attack plan.

  Instincts that were millions of years old stirred in his body. His blood coursed faster through his veins, hormones released and seemed to sharpen his mind, and the edges of his mandibles tensed involuntarily, ready to tear the enemy to pieces, as had been common among the ancestors in the distant past at the time of the battle that pitted Mendrak against Mendrak.

  Kasfok leaned back against the command web of the small ship and enjoyed the flood of archaic urges. This was what the Mendraki were born to do! Combat and war were the driving forces of evolution, and he had the unshakable conviction that his species had to be at the top of the evolution pyramid. That was its destiny. The aliens, whoever they were, didn’t stand a chance!

  46th of Frien, 298

  The sun stretched a single finger across the black horizon. The beam of light tentatively brushed across the landscape, illuminating a hill along the way and finally stopping at the central projection of a vast crater. Then the white star sent out three more fingers of light, then 7, 15, 49, a countless number. The sun had risen, and this was the seventh time for Kimikizu that day.

  She was traveling with three other Iks in a diamond-shaped formation. Somebody had informed her that this configuration was entirely typical for an exploration team. She flew on the extreme left, and Lashok had taken a place across from her in the back. Kimikizu had never been good at remembering names, and she’d forgotten the names of the other two immediately after they’d told her. But she would probably never see either of them again.

  Their job was straightforward but time-consuming. They were transporting ice from the craters in the north to the drilling site, which was in a temperate zone. Of course, they hadn’t wanted to squander the ship’s water supplies. Usually it would have been necessary to extract the substance from the rock, but the planet had done the work for them. Actually, it had been the work of the comets that must have crashed here long ago, leaving water behind. The sun’s rays never reached the deep craters of the north, so the water was still present in the form of ice.

  Now it lay in a tarp beneath them, starting to glisten and sparkle in the light of the rising central star. It was almost as if they were transporting jewels. The Iks tended to get very excited about sparkly things, but Kimikizu was well aware that this pleasure would be short-lived, since the ice would be used to stopper the drill hole.

  They had already passed the flying machine, which towered tall and proud in the sky. They’d be able to see the hole soon. The Iks who was out in front, Kitok—his name came back to her now—started to descend somewhat. No commands were required. Each Iks had an infallible instinct for the movements of its surroundings, a kind of physical empathy that had been necessary for the survival of the flocks in the early days.

  Her magnetic sense, one of the Iks’ natural abilities, made it possible for Kimikizu to sense the correct flight direction. She’d been surprised when she first noticed the distinctive tug in her frontal sinus. The ship didn’t have its own magnetic field, but this rock planet did, although it wasn’t all that strong. She was already looking forward to floating in the thick clouds of the gas giants, which, according to initial observations, possessed especially powerful magnetic fields. Reportedly, magnetic fields of a specific strength provided a full-fledged, addictive high—information she’d heard from individuals who had themselves only heard it from others.

  Another diamond formation approached from the right. The Iks were mining ice from different craters to get the hole closed up as quickly as possible, so they must have been near to reaching their goal. Kimikizu tried to find the drilling site, although the direction they took was really up to the leader. Their diamond immediately started to pull apart. She could tell from the tension of the rope that was holding the tarp with the ice. She corrected her mistake immediately. Those flying in a flock had to concentrate on their own tasks.

  They descended soon afterward, and the first thing they did was deposit the tarp, holding their wings straight in and firing the engines on their packs downward, so it looked as if they were standing in the air. The formation sank very slowly until the tarp touched down. There were already other Iks waiting below to transport the ice. Kimikizu let the rope slide off her shoulder at just the right moment, and then she was free.

  Would they fly north again? Kitok was probably getting instructions at that very moment. She was still mulling this over when suddenly there was no more tension on the cable. The leader had broken up the formation with a tiny gesture she hadn’t even noticed. Apparently they had enough ice to close the hole.

  Kimikizu landed near the drilling site. The actual work area was closed off, but she recognized the electric furnace. Iks in work suits were shoveling ice into its depths, where it was melted and pumped as water through a heated pipe into the borehole. The planet’s crust had cooled down long ago, so the water would freeze and expand. This would serve as a perfect stopper that would be certain to hold the rope.

  “Have you seen the rope yet?”

  An Iks approached her. It was hard to tell everybody apart because they were wearing spacesuits, but the voice had to be Norok’s. What an honor that the Supreme Explorer kept speaking to her!

  “No, and it’s certainly too late now,” she said, unable to hide her disappointment.

  “I’ve got a sample. We cut off a quarter-wingspan piece from the end.” Norok held out a piece of rope that was about the same thickness as her leg.

  “I would have imagined it much thicker,” she said.

  “Yes, most do. But then it would be far too heavy. Take it.” He gave her the rope.

  She was surprised that it was as light as a feather. “And this can securely connect this planet to our ship?”

  “I knew you were going to ask that,” Norok replied.

  Was she so transparent?

  “That’s what everyone asks. I asked the same thing when I saw the rope for the first time.”

  “And what’s its secret?”


  “You have to think of the rope as a mixture of a huge computer and a living organism.”

  “That’s hard,” Kimikizu said, laughing.

  “Yes, I’ll admit that.” Norok smiled. “The base material consists of carbon nanotubes. Above that, there’s a sensor layer that continuously measures the load on the rope. You certainly know the saying about the chain breaking at its weakest link?”

  “As a matter of fact, yes.”

  “Well, the sensor layer is supposed to prevent such a weak point from forming in the first place. As soon as the load somewhere is even a touch greater than in the rest of the rope, the sensors signal this to the nearby nanomachines, which reinforce the spot in a flash.”

  “Like in an organism.”

  “I see that you now understand the notion of the living computer.”

  “Yes. So the nanomachines are the immune system.”

  “Exactly,” said Norok.

  “What happens if the rope breaks anyway?” she asked.

  Norok’s face, as best she could see through the pane of the helmet’s visor, clouded over. She shouldn’t have asked that question.

  “That won’t happen,” he replied softly.

  “Control transfer,” said the Iks on the seat to her right.

  Kimikizu was already strapped in. She’d worried that she’d lost her status as a favorite, but Norok had reassigned her a place in the cockpit. She wondered why he paid any attention to her. Was it perhaps just a matter of not straining the relationships between Explorers and Navigators? She had no real job here. The fact that she’d been sent here was probably no more than a political gesture.

  “Control transfer,” said the automatic system.

  “Start out gently,” said the Supreme Explorer. “The nanomachines have to warm up first.”

  She’d gotten an explanation as to why the flying machine had to return to the ship manually. They’d be rolling out the rope. It had been lying unused in the storage room for a long time, and now the nanomachines would need some time to adapt to being used in space. There were probably some sensors that had failed and would need to be repaired. During this time, the rope couldn’t bear too much of a load. If things got rough because something unanticipated happened, the automatic system would save the flying machine rather than the rope, thereby endangering the entire Iks’ civilization.

  Kimikizu was glad she wasn’t in the pilot’s position right now, even though everything would likely go according to plan. This close to the star, there were relatively few asteroids that could be dangerous for them. But if something did happen, the pilot would have to decide on his own authority what to do with the rope and when to sacrifice the flying machine for the sake of the generation ship. Even Norok wouldn’t be able to help him then. Just thinking about it made Kimikizu start to sweat.

  The pilot took off so gently that she only noticed it a few seconds later. He accelerated slowly. Kimikizu imagined the rope unrolling. There were industrious nanomachines, invisible to the naked eye, moving across its surface, looking for damage, and doing the repairs. The organism grew stronger and more resistant from one moment to the next. Couldn’t the technology be applied to the Iks themselves? The nanomachines could make an Iks soldier invincible, since they would immediately patch up any wounds. Kimikizu shivered at the thought.

  Wasn’t aging also due to increasing cell damage? If the nanomachines were able to get all this under control, the Iks would become not only invincible but also immortal. Their species would change. There’s no way the Supreme Leaders would agree to this.

  Kimikizu decided not to tell anyone about this crazy idea. But surely others had thought of it before her, and had been deservedly reprimanded by the Supreme Leaders.

  “It’s best if you sleep a little longer, Kimi,” she suddenly heard the Supreme Explorer say.

  She looked to the side.

  Norok was standing next to her seat. He seemed wide awake. “The return flight will be shorter than the outbound flight,” he added. “The planet has kept turning, and the ship’s gotten closer.”

  “Thanks for the tip,” Kimikizu replied. But what did he want from her? Just to chat a bit?

  “I wanted to ask you if we might go out to eat together after the braking maneuver is finished,” he said softly, so that only she could hear.

  Kimikizu blushed.

  “Maybe the new Infinity Restaurant?” he suggested.

  There, of all places. In the kitchen were seeds and other delicacies poured out onto a conveyor belt that would pass in front of diners who served themselves with their beaks. It was quite popular among young Iks, but she didn’t think much of it. This made it easy for Kimikizu to turn down the invitation. “No,” she said, “I don’t like the atmosphere there at all.”

  She guessed that Norok would just glare at her and stomp away in a huff, but nothing of the sort happened. On the contrary, his face brightened, and he appeared to hesitate about what to say next.

  He looked charming. Kimikizu had to remind herself that this was the Supreme Explorer, not just any Iks. Nobody in her right mind would refuse such an invitation.

  “Oh,” said Norok, “I... I suggested the Infinity because it’s so popular with the younger ones. I really don’t like it there either. What about a traditional inn? I mean a restaurant?”

  Now he blushed, probably because of his slip of the tongue. Inns offered not only food, but accommodations as well. Since young Iks slept on roosts alongside their peers in large quarters, they’d meet secretly at an inn if they liked each other.

  “Well then,” replied Kimikizu. “I’ll be in touch...” No, she really shouldn’t say that. “I’d be happy to hear from you after the braking maneuver.”

  Norok smiled, nodded, and then strutted back to his seat. Kimikizu thought about what had just happened here. Had the Supreme Explorer just made a date with her? Was it entirely appropriate for her to accept? She felt rather clueless in this department, but she had to admit that she was very flattered by the offer, even though Norok was significantly older than she was.

  The return to the ship was even more impressive than the launch. Kimikizu watched on the displays as they flew closer and closer to the giant asteroid that had been home to her species for many cycles. The narrow gap they would take to pass through the outer crust was only visible shortly before they entered. The flying machine unflinchingly ventured inside. A second flying machine would scarcely have fit between it and the rock walls.

  She wondered how the rope was faring. Could it hit the walls and be damaged? But the pilot would know what to do. Kimikizu tried to relax.

  Then came the big gate. Shouldn’t the pilot have turned by now? Ah, no, she had forgotten about the full-arrest devices in the cave behind the gate. The flying machine was slowed and brought to a stop by an elastic net, and parked on the ground by huge metal arms. It was time to disembark.

  Kimikizu followed the braking maneuver from the control center. The last time she’d been here had been the 43rd of Frien, three days ago, but it felt like an eternity. Did the Supreme Navigator have more silver feathers on her head than before they’d left? And where was Lobozinu? The old woman had been the reason she’d volunteered for the mission in the first place, and now she wanted to thank her.

  “Do you know where Lobozinu is?” she asked her neighbor.

  From the green glow of her feathers, Kimikizu could tell she came from the cloud layers—or in reality, that was where her parents had come from. There were, of course, no clouds on board the generation ship.

  “Haven’t you heard? Lobozinu is in the infirmary. Everyone says she’s come home to roost for the last time.”

  “Oh,” she replied. “No, I didn’t know that. That’s too bad.”

  “Oh, she was old, over four hundred cycles. It’s normal.”

  Kimikizu was on the verge of answering her neighbor with a sharp retort. How could she talk about their elder like that? Lobozinu had probably hoped to live long enough to see th
e Iks find their new home. Kimikizu decided to visit her in the infirmary.

  Then the ceiling above her changed. The Supreme Navigator must have activated the all-over screen, which the Navigators could use to track the generation ship's path. That was how it had been at the time of the launch, when Kimikizu hadn’t hatched yet, and it would be like that upon arrival.

  The huge screen above her now showed the constellation of the planet, ship, and star. The display must have been to scale, because the rope wasn’t visible. However, one graph showed the most important thing, the tension in the rope, which had to stay outside the section marked in red.

  The spaceship’s brake engines fired, just as they had in previous weeks. Now everything was hanging on the rope—the ship was moving forward, and would begin to pull against it. It was about to happen.

  Then it began, and Kimikizu’s inertia tore at her straps like never before. She tried to concentrate on the graph displaying rope tension. The curve fluctuated significantly but stayed within the acceptable range. The momentum from the giant spaceship was now being transferred to the planet. The planet was far more massive than the ship, but it would still have to do something with the force of the momentum. The Uncertainty Oracle’s statements had been ambiguous. It hadn’t been able to choose between two possible scenarios. Yet what was unmistakable was that the planet’s speed was increasing.

  The screen on the ceiling showed this clearly. The projected path changed, with the circle turning into an ellipse. If the planet was moving too quickly, the ellipse would turn into a hyperbola. And with every passing moment, it became apparent that this was just what was in store for the planet.

  This made Kimikizu increasingly sad. The only thing that could prevent this from happening would be the rope breaking, now, in which case the generation ship’s course would remain a hyperbola. The planet would remain in the system, but the Iks would have to keep drifting through space. At some point they would run out of resources, and their civilization would die. Therefore, Kimikizu thought, it was better for this dry, burned planet to be the one to take the journey.