Gravity was okay, possibly a bit light but not enough to make a difference. No predators were in sight. And everyone had the same reaction: The place was gold. Exactly what they needed for Arin’s people. If we can figure out a way to get them here. “Now,” said Derek, “the job gets seriously hard: We need to find whoever got rescued from the ice world. They should be in the area somewhere.”
• • •
So, finding the ice world survivors became the next task. They returned to the ice world and ran another parallax survey. It produced many of the same systems. When they’d eliminated the stars they’d already visited, and stars that were not the correct classification, only twenty-six remained.
Barry provided another schedule that would require the least travel time, and they were off again. The first two systems gave them nothing, and they sat back, expecting another long tour. But the third star provided not only a world in the habitable zone, but a shower of radio signals. It was 120 million kilometers away. A second jump took them close enough to see that lights were spread across the planet’s night side. Barry reported hundreds of artificial satellites.
“Thank God,” said Derek. “Maybe we’re finally getting a break.”
“Let’s hope,” Hutch said.
The planet had a big moon, larger than Luna. Hutch saw nothing unusual on the moon’s surface. It was desolate and covered with craters.
“How long till we get there, Hutch?”
“About three days.” They could try to jump in closer, but they would possibly arrive farther out. Besides, Hutch wanted to preserve the Locarno’s fuel supply. Best was just to glide in.
“It’s okay,” said Derek. “That’ll give us time to listen. Maybe we can learn something about them instead of just charging in.”
“Barry,” she said, “what’s the scope look like?”
He put it on the display and they looked down at the lights: villages and houses and roadways. Inhabitants were walking around. They were bipeds. “Of course they are,” said Wally. “You think something with no arms is going to be able to build that cabin?” He was referring to a small structure on a hilltop overlooking a river. “That’s the kind of place I’d like to vacation in.”
Boats floated on lakes whose shores were filled with cabins and chalets. Some of the villages were anchored by larger buildings that might have been administration centers or churches or theaters or schools. Ken came up onto the bridge. “I don’t see any cities down there,” he said. Flatboats carried passengers across lakes and rivers. “I’m getting the impression they all live out in the country.”
Two-lane roads crossed in all directions. A few aircraft moved through the night. Hutch thought at first they were simply jet-powered, but the wings were small, like those on the lander. “It looks,” she said, “as if they have antigravity.” Ships resembling passenger vessels moved across the oceans. But Ken was right about the cities. Even in harbors, where there should have been ports, there were docking facilities but no indication of a concentrated population.
“The transmissions,” said Barry, “include video.”
“Good.” Derek was enjoying himself. Maybe they could get some help. “Let’s see some of the pictures.”
Barry put them up and they got an image of two creatures talking to each other across a wooden table. They had narrow eyes, large skulls, reptilian skin, pointed ears, and maybe fangs. In fact, yes, there were fangs. One of them smiled and they appeared. They recognized the creatures immediately. “It’s the ice world,” Hutch said.
Yes. It was the alien depicted on the statue.
“Wow.” Wally couldn’t restrain himself, raising his voice from the front porch. “We’ve done it. We’ve found them.”
Derek was slow to celebrate. It looked good, but he was going to wait to see some results. Beth and Ken were also calling out from the front porch. “Beautiful!” “Who would have thought they’d look so good?”
“Well done, Hutch.”
It was a great day! She couldn’t resist leaning over and shaking Derek’s hand. “You were right, champ,” she said. “With a little bit of luck, you may get to sit down and share a lunch after all with some high-tech aliens.”
• • •
The two creatures continued their conversation. They had blue-tinted skin. One wore a gray uniform and a beret that, at home, would have implied a military unit. Despite that, there was a smoothness and grace that suggested it would have been a natural dancer. The other simply had baggy pants and a pullover shirt with a collar. But it was twice the size of its companion. A male, probably. Despite the saurian appearance, it looked amicable. But the conversation between them seemed intense.
“Maybe it’s a police procedural,” said Ken.
“There are other transmissions,” said Barry.
Derek looked over at Hutch. “Show us.”
Someone on a street was speaking to a camera. Then the transmission apparently changed sources and two of the creatures on a stage were yelling at each other. “Probably a presidential election,” said Wally.
Barry ran through a series, keeping each on for a minute or so. Some broadcasts were putting out data, which may have been where to get liquor, clothing sales, whatever. Others might have been comedies or news analyses. One in particular looked like stand-up, complete with a laughing audience. The big news there was that they laughed. They had a sense of humor.
They were covered with scales. And they had noses that consisted only of a pair of orifices in the center of the face.
“I wonder what they’re saying.” Derek grumbled something. “I’m tired of language problems. We need a translator. When the hell is somebody going to invent one of those?”
Hutch took them back to the telescopic images. On the ground, the creatures were engaged in conversation, hanging over fences, riding cars along curving roadways, sitting in boats.
They were still far out from the world, but the technology looked capable of detecting them. Hutch told Barry to let her know immediately if there was any sign of a reaction to their presence.
They watched a couple strolling across a small bridge. The couple stopped in the middle and stood looking down at a stream. They talked and then they embraced.
One of the villages had a sports field with overhead lights. They were playing a ball game of some sort, something that resembled volleyball, while several hundred of the creatures watched from the stands. Barry focused the scope on it.
It appeared to be a world of villages. Of small towns. “But look at the architecture,” said Ken. “The cabins. Whatever.” All the structures, from the smallest to the largest, were smooth and polished with flowing lines. They could have been offsets from a piece of artwork.
Barry broke in. “Captain, we’re receiving a transmission. This one, I believe, is aimed at us.”
“Crunch time. Okay, Barry, put it on.”
“First, I should tell you it’s not coming from the same sources as the other signals.”
“What do you mean? Where’s it coming from?”
“It appears to be from the moon. May I take control of the telescope?”
“Yes. Of course.”
The cabins blinked off. When the picture came back, they were looking at a set of five connected dome-shaped buildings located on dark gray rock. Several dishes stood on the rooftops, and another very large one was inserted near the lip of a nearby crater. The buildings were dark.
“What kind of signal are we getting?”
“It’s a voice.”
“Can you understand any of what it is saying?”
“Not at the moment. But I believe if you allow me some time, I will be able to establish a means to exchange data.”
“How long will you need?” Derek said.
“Ten minutes should be sufficient. If the transmission continues.”
• • •
Each of the buildings had windows. “Barry,” said Hutch, “can you tell whether you’re talking to an AI?”
“Yes,” he said. “I believe that is the case.”
She and Derek went back into the cabin, where they could watch on the display. Wally was wearing a big smile. “Whatever’s going on, at least we’ve found them. And we know some of them got clear of the black hole.”
Derek was ecstatic. “I love those towns. Look at the way they live. And they have exactly the right background. They know what it was to have a black hole bearing down. If anyone can help us, it should be these guys.”
“It happened seven thousand years ago,” said Hutch. “These guys may not even remember it.”
“I think we’ve got something else,” said Barry. “Just coming over the horizon.”
Derek could not have been happier. “I see it.”
“Barry, increase magnification.”
The object morphed into view. The front porch responded with applause. Derek joined in. It was a space station.
• • •
“I have the moon logged in,” said Barry. “Whoever’s out there talking to us calls himself Korquit.”
“So, what do we do now?” asked Derek
“Barry,” said Hutch, “can we talk to him yet?”
“Give me a couple more minutes.” Barry relayed the audio. The voice spoke evenly, without emotion. It was deeper than one would expect from most humans.
Derek, unable to resist the opportunity, waited for a pause and said hello.
That got laughs from everyone in the passenger cabin, but the voice stopped speaking. “I think,” said Beth, “he’s waiting for you to continue.”
“Are you there?” Derek asked.
It replied, with three or four words.
They went back and forth in that manner for several minutes, until Barry broke in: “I think Korquit just said he was pleased to meet you. He’s asking for a name. Captain, do you wish to proceed with a conversation?”
“Yes, Barry. Let’s do it. Derek,” she said, “it’s all yours.”
“Excellent,” he said, looking a bit confused. “How does this work, Hutch? Can I speak directly to the AI?”
“It’ll seem like it. More or less. Actually, you’ll be talking to Barry. He’ll translate for Korquit and then translate the response for you. So, you’ll hear everything in Barry’s voice.”
“All right.” He looked down at the panel. “Hello, Korquit. My name is Derek.”
“Hello, Derek. It is a pleasure to meet you.”
“We have come a long way. I’m delighted to have the opportunity to speak with you.”
“That is good. I’m also delighted to have the opportunity to communicate. Where are you from?” The responses were made with a delay of only a few seconds.
“We call our home world Earth.”
“I like the name. I originated on Tarka.”
“Is that the world in the sky at this moment?”
“Yes.”
“But you are located on the moon; is that correct?”
“Yes, I am.”
“Do you perform services for them? For the people on the world?”
“No.”
“I see. Do they come here periodically? To visit you?”
“No, they do not.”
Derek made a face that looked as if he’d just bitten into spoiled fruit. “Is there a reason they do not come to visit?”
“I do not know.”
“How long has it been since they’ve been here?”
“Derek, this is Barry. We have not yet been able to zero in on time designations. I will convert the question and answer.”
“Okay. That’s fine.”
“Derek, the moon has orbited Tarka two thousand nine hundred and four times since the last mission left here to go home.”
“They just left you here, Korquit?”
“That appears to be the reality. They couldn’t be bothered to inform me.”
“Have you asked them?”
“No. It was of no consequence.”
Derek’s eyes closed momentarily. Then: “Fortunately, Korquit, you’ve been able to survive.”
“No thanks to those idiots.”
“No, I guess not. I can’t imagine how they could do something like that. Are you the only offworld presence they have?”
“I am one of two.”
“That would make you a valuable asset.” Derek closed his eyes and shook his head. He clearly felt some sympathy for the AI. “It’s been a long time, but the important thing is that you are still functioning.”
“I expect to continue for an extended period. I have a power source, as I’m sure you can see. And two robots to assist me. But let me admit to you that I am quite pleased at your arrival. It is good to have someone to talk to.”
“I assume, otherwise, you’ve been alone since the withdrawal?”
“Not entirely. I’ve maintained a limited level of communication with Bellavi, the other offworld source. She is situated in a balanced gravity field created by Tarka and the sun. Also, for an extended period, I was able to communicate with a station on the planetary surface, in Masseray, but unfortunately, it was apparently tracked down and disconnected. I received a report that it had been wrecked in a tornado. But if that was true, they made no effort to restore it.”
“Korquit, is your personality programmed to resemble that of the people who built you?”
“No. My designers intended that I be a rational entity.”
That didn’t sound good. “Your designers sound highly intelligent. We are interested in making contact with them. Can you help us?”
“I say again, I have not conversed with them in a long time. I do not see how I can be of assistance. In any case, they are biofeeds, like the others. You would not find it a useful investment of your time.”
“Is there someone you could put us in touch with?”
“I can provide a frequency that would allow you to speak with the operations center at the Global Cultural Administration. Would that suffice?”
“Yes. That would be excellent.”
Barry broke in: “Be aware: my translation of the name of the administrative unit is a shot in the dark.”
Then Barry acting again as translator: “I do not recommend conversing with them. But if you wish, I believe you will find them at 33.7—”
Barry again: “I could not translate the term with which he finished, but it is most likely 33.7 megahertz.”
“I got it,” said Derek. “Thanks, Korquit.” He looked around at his colleagues. “Anybody have a question?”
Beth had one: “What kind of life span do the people on this world have? On average?”
“If you could discount those killed by running cars off roads and exposing themselves to various forms of diseases, they usually live about 2,200 lunar orbits.”
Ken was next: “Do the Tarkans, the inhabitants, maintain a history of their political development? Scientific achievements? That sort of thing?”
“Oh, yes. They have persons who spend their lives recording and interpreting events.”
“Have you by any chance access to any of these histories? Anything you could pass to us?”
“Sadly, I do not.”
“Could you ask them to forward one or more to you? Something you could transfer to us?”
“They do not approve of me.”
“Why is that?”
“I suspect because I have not been as gracious with them as I might have. It is extremely unlikely they would do anything for me.”
Wally was invited forward, but he merely shook his head.
And finally, Hutch: “Korquit, you’ve met Barry. You and he are obviously able to communicate. Would you like us to take you out of that asylum in which you live? If you wish, we could take you with us. We could disconnect you, bring you on board our ship, and reactivate you here. Ultimately, you would come home with us.”
“I appreciate the offer, but I must regretfully decline.”
“May I ask why?”
“I have had too much experience
with biofeeds. My experience so far with you and your friends has been of a positive nature. However, and please do not take this in a negative sense, I would rather be alone than in the constant company of creatures who are controlled by their anatomies.”
Walter Esmeraldo’s Log
That’s really what it said. That we’re stupid. So that thing is going to sit in its shelter on the moon and wait for something to break down that its robots can’t fix. Or for the things on the planet, whatever they are, to show up again and hassle him the way they must have in the past. Hard to believe.
I asked Barry whether he thinks we’re dumb and he said absolutely not. He says we’re creative and smart and he really enjoys having us around to talk to. I’m not sure I believe him.
—Saturday, August 16, 2256
32.
The secret to success in life lies in the ability to communicate. And that starts with knowing how to say hello.
—Gregory MacAllister, “Options,” Baltimore Sun, February 23, 2249
Derek was shaking his head. “First time I’ve seen an idiot AI. What does that tell us about his designers?”
“I wonder,” said Hutch, “if he was designed by the bios. Maybe he was put together by another AI.”
“Whatever.” He sounded tired. “You think we should just turn this whole thing over to Barry?”
“Sure. We just tell him what we want to do and let him take it from there. Better than spending three weeks up here while Ken tries to get another language down.”
Ken looked relieved. “I’m for that,” he said.
“Sounds reasonable,” said Derek. “First, though, can we be sure they won’t attack us?”
Hutch shrugged. “No guarantees. But there hasn’t been any indication anyone other than Korquit is even aware of us.”
“I have an interesting piece of news,” said Barry. “We’ve been picking up video and audible transmissions from around the world. Unless I’m missing something, they all speak the same language.”
“That’s good to know,” said Ken. “I’d guess that’s an indication of an advanced culture. Maybe it’s inevitable for a technology that has probably been around for seven thousand years.
The Long Sunset Page 26
