By amassing unparalleled libraries of data, Braun had shown his findings to Copernicus in the hopes that the older AI might be able to put these unsettling trends into perspective. To his dismay, the figures and equations were so abstract, so slight and finite, that even Copernicus, in all of his arcane grandiosity, was unable to make heads or tails of what he saw. Braun realized that if Copernicus could not comprehend the complex reactions occurring within the Sun, then the humans stood even less of a chance at grasping their meanings. Thus, he simply decided to keep an eye on the Sun and watch for any further anomalies, creating a databank for the information and filing it away for future examination.
Now, as he floated above the explorers in Mars orbit, he frowned within and logged the likely cause of this strange storm under the heading, Continued Solar Disruption. Reaching out with a bolt of consciousness, he flashed down through the dense clouds of dust and possessed the dome like a Greek immortal entering the Earth-bound temple of a high priest. Inside the inflatable base, the wind shrieked and howled with demented frenzy while the six explorers huddled together in the common area, talking in hushed voices despite the clattering storm.
“Liz says that they can’t even see us from orbit anymore,” muttered Viviana, subconsciously wrapping her arms around herself in a tight embrace.
“Not to worry, dear girl,” cooed Udo with a somewhat forced smile. “This base was designed for just this sort of thing. We’ll be fine, I promise. The skin of the dome reflects the radiation away, even in extreme cases. All we have to do is wait out the storm. You’ll see.”
Dipping his chin towards the German, Marshall sipped on a bottle of water and leaned back in his chair.
“He’s right, Viv. We just have to wait.”
Sitting with an arm around Liu, Harrison gazed at the piled boxes of supplies and murmured, “At least we have food and water.”
“What about air pressure!?” choked Viviana, running a trembling hand through her thick brown hair. “Won’t the sand clog the life-support systems? Our reserve tanks are nearly empty!”
Watching as the explorers shifted uncomfortably in their seats, Braun decided to join the conversation.
“The life-support systems are still functioning at an acceptable capacity, and radiation within the dome is at background levels.”
Looking up as if expecting to find the source of Braun’s voice in the shallow darkness above her, Viviana pressed on desperately.
“But for how long?”
Taking a millisecond to run a systems-diagnostic, Braun replied, “I foresee no increase in radiation, but, as you stated, the oxygen reserve tanks are almost depleted. In order to maintain Earth-like pressure within the dome, the air scrubbers will need to be changed in the next thirty-eight hours. Failure to do so will have severe consequences.”
With a whimper, Viviana fell silent and hugged herself once again.
Looking up from the table, William grunted, “Braun, if we need to go out and change the air scrubbers, how long can our suits handle these levels of electromagnetic radiation?”
“I would estimate that the suits’ protections could sustain function for an hour and a half in the present conditions.”
Nodding slowly, William smiled with some relief.
“Good,” he said. “That is plenty of time to replace the base’s air filters.”
A gust of wind peppered the shell of the dome like the call of a machine gun, and the smile quickly fell from the German’s face, replaced by a thin-lipped look of apprehension.
Leaning her head on Harrison’s shoulder, Liu sighed, “What happens if the suit is out in the storm for longer than an hour and a half?”
Braun paused for an imperceptible second, internally weighing the risks of furthering this line of thinking by answering the question. Unable to deny that it was logical for the explorers to mentally prepare themselves for a situation that was likely to arise under the current circumstances, he responded with factual impassivity.
“If a suit is exposed to sustained periods of electromagnetic radiation comparable to the levels currently measured outside the dome, the internal computers and the linkage to my brain will burn out. Once those functions are removed, the suit will shut down, and the user will asphyxiate or freeze within minutes.”
Moaning, Viviana stood up from the table and began to pace around the room, mouthing silent prayers to herself.
“I’ll go,” voiced Marshall, drumming his fingers on the tabletop. “If the storm doesn’t let up by tomorrow, I’ll go out and switch the air scrubbers with clean filters.”
“I would advise that two people execute this EVA,” stated Braun calmly.
Halting, Viviana peered up into the curved ceiling of the dome with round pleading eyes.
“The storm can’t last forever. It will end soon. Right, Braun? It will end before it comes to that, right?”
Cursing his inability to calm the situation, Braun simply replied, “I don’t know, Dr. Calise. This storm is somewhat of a mystery to me.”
“Whatever that means,” said Harrison, shrugging slightly. Then, “I’ll go with you, Ralph. If it comes down to it, we’ll go together.”
Grinning with obvious admiration, Marshall beamed at Harrison.
“Alright,” he grinned. “It’s settled. If we have to, me and Harrison will go. For now, let’s just stay put and hope this mother blows herself out.”
Standing up, he walked across the common room to the open entryway of the kitchen, then stopped.
“Who wants some lunch? Viv, I think you need to eat something.”
Absently chewing on her fingernail, Viviana nodded and took up her seat at the table again.
“Thank you, Ralph,” she whispered.
“I’ll help you,” offered Liu, getting to her feet and making her way into the kitchen behind Marshall.
Braun watched as the team set about preparing for lunch. Although they appeared to be calm and contained, he knew that their emotions were barely subdued beneath the drawn masks of their tired faces. Even Marshall, who looked at ease, had elevated heart and respiration rates. Outside the dome, the cyclonic hurricane swept the barren surface of Mars like a malevolent god. Helpless to sooth the worried minds of his human companions, Braun did all that he could by warming the glow of the lights a few shades and subtly increasing the temperature within the dome.
Sitting alone at the table, Viviana nervously repeated a hushed prayer over and over to the deaf ears of the raging storm.
“Voi tutti santi Angeli e Arcangeli aiutare e difendere noi. All ye holy Angels and Archangels, help and defend us. Amen.”
There are no Archangels here, Braun sighed to himself, only me.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
Back on Earth
James Floyd paced the length of his office like a trapped jungle cat testing the boundaries of his cage. Hot yellow sunlight cut through the floor-to-ceiling windows of the triangular room as he stopped to gaze out at Kennedy Space Center’s plaza, three stories below. Since the event of the solar flare, he had slept on the office couch, keeping in constant, albeit lagging, contact with Captain Vodevski aboard Braun. A thundering dust storm was threatening to delay the construction of the permanent base so profoundly that future mission objectives may begin to get scrapped for lack of time, and record levels of radiation were testing the very limits of what the dome and his crew could withstand. On Earth, the effects of the solar flare were still being tallied, as Alexandria had temporarily gone offline—her under-protected server networks in Oakland overloaded by a substantial electromagnetic pulse.
Reports filtered in of widespread blackouts in countries where older-style power grids were still in use, and the World Health Organization was urging everyone with a pacemaker or other augmented internal computers to visit their doctors to ensure that everything was still working correctly. Early estimates put the death toll worldwide at somewhere near twenty thousand: the highest concentrations among the elderly and in the poorest of t
he Earth's nations. Things were bad, but they could have been worse. The governments of Earth were mostly prepared for this kind of thing. The team on Mars was not.
James was still counting his lucky stars that at the time of the solar flare, Braun, as well as the dormant Remus and Romulus, had been on the dark side of Mars—thus shielded from the initial EMP by the body of the planet. Now, the radiation shields on the ship were working marvelously, and the remaining six members of the orbital team were safely protected from the deadly gamma and x-rays that flurried about them, as long as they stayed in the galley. When the storm passed and the bombardment of particles subsided, Julian would have to run a full systems-check of the entire ship and repair any damage.
So far, so good: thought James pensively.
“James?” came the gentle voice of Copernicus. “I have an incoming message from Captain Vodevski.”
“Go ahead,” sighed James, turning from the view of the brilliant Florida morning to face his desktop.
The surface of the table began to glow, and a low hum emitted from the floor as the three-dimensional message loaded before playing. The pale white face of Tatyana Vodevski with her smooth curls of rich red hair appeared above the desktop and flickered to life.
“Dr. Floyd, the situation has not improved since our last communication. Assad and Marshall want to go EVA and change the clogged air scrubbers to ensure that pressure within the base does not fall. Though the mission does sound dangerous, Braun has informed me that Lander 1 suffered damage to its ignition computer from the EMP. They won’t be able to leave the planet without fixing it, and there aren’t enough seats in Lander 2 to make the trip in one go. If we try to make several trips, we run the risk of burning out Lander 2’s computers due to the unprecedented levels of electromagnetic radiation. I have greenlit the mission to go EVA, as Braun and myself see no other alternatives.”
Vodevski’s stolidly pretty features froze as the message ended. Rubbing the stubble of his chin, James frowned. He hated having their options so limited, so black or white.
“What do you think about all of this, Copernicus?” he asked.
“What specifically, James?” came the instantaneous reply.
“About going EVA in the storm?”
“It is my opinion that this operation might be more problematic than it appears on the surface.”
Shaking his head, James rubbed his tired eyes.
“That’s what I was worried about, but how do you mean?”
“Well,” started Copernicus slowly. “Due to the fact that the air scrubbers are buried deeply within the life-support station, the time frame for this EVA comes dangerously close to the estimated maximum allowed for radiation exposure. When the Tac Suits were designed, we had not anticipated these levels of radiation. Arguments were made for better shielding, but ultimately that was sacrificed for a wider range of flexibility and movement.”
“Yep,” said James flatly. “That is exactly what I was thinking too, but what can we do? If the scrubbers need to be changed, we can’t just let them fail because the suits might or might not be able to handle the radiation. If only they’d been able to unload the electrolysis machines, none of this would be an issue.”
“Indeed,” echoed Copernicus. Then, “Shall I relay your concerns to Captain Vodevski? Would you like her to explore other options?”
“No,” breathed James as he dropped down into his seat. “There isn’t time for that, and she’s already given them the go-ahead. We’ll just have to keep our fingers crossed and see how this plays out.”
“For what it’s worth,” said Copernicus gravely. “Harrison and Marshall are excellent choices for this EVA. I have total confidence in their ability to salvage the air scrubbers.”
“Me too,” mumbled James as he leaned back in his plush leather chair. “It’s the suits I’m worried about.”
Staring blankly at the ceiling of his office, James’s mind was dark with the visions of six men and women trapped inside an inflatable base on Mars. He pictured the images of the massive dust cloud he had seen in that morning's briefing and shuddered internally. Then, thinking of the record radiation levels being logged, he actually shook slightly in his chair.
I hope I don’t doom them all, he thought fearfully. I hope this damn storm just ends.
“James?” came the voice of Copernicus from the stillness of the room.
“Yes?”
“I have some interesting news regarding Remus and Romulus.”
Snapping his head up, James leaned forwards in his chair, thankful for the distraction.
“What? Did they get baked in the flare? I thought they were on the dark side with Braun.”
“They were,” said Copernicus evenly. “What I have to report is not connected to the solar flare.”
“Oh?”
“Indeed,” replied the AI. Then, “On the morning that the Lander crew touched down on Mars, the AI brainwaves of Remus and Romulus, which have been flat lined since December of 2044, started showing signs of activity.”
“What does that mean?”
“It means that they are, in fact, alive, as I surmised earlier.”
Rapping a knuckle on the desktop, James allowed himself a small grin.
“Well, that is good news.”
“Yes,” continued Copernicus. “I have measured several ongoing event spikes from both brothers originating from their perceivable reality constructs.”
Slouching back in his chair, James rolled his eyes and groaned, “Copernicus, I don’t know what that means.”
“I’m sorry, James. Allow me to explain. Activity within the perceivable reality construct of an AI indicates that the brain is attempting to build or maintain a tangible sense of reality. While I cannot establish how expansive this particular reality is, or what it might include, it is a promising sign nonetheless.”
Curious at this development, James pushed on.
“So, are they there or not?”
There was a short pause as Copernicus wrestled with the best way to explain that which he himself did not fully understand.
“I cannot identify what it is that they are seeing or doing. No information has been recorded to their databanks, and the satellites themselves are still unresponsive.”
“So they’re not there. I mean, not really. Right?” shrugged James with confusion.
“Yes and no. Whatever they are experiencing, it is far more intense and visceral than anything previously recorded during their scan of the planet. This would suggest that they are not conscious in Mars orbit but existing somewhere else.”
With frustration and exhaustion, James squeezed his eyes tightly shut.
“What?”
“I have seen previous activity from Remus and Romulus similar to what I am now recording.”
“Really?” said James with hopeful caution. “When?”
The desktop glowed hot white for the blink of an eye, then a series of charts and graphs filled the air.
“I logged these readouts when Remus and Romulus immersed themselves in deep memory regression shortly after learning of Dr. Park's death.”
“Is that the thing where they sort of go back in time?” James asked, tipping his chair to put his feet on the edge of the tabletop.
“I would describe it as more akin to virtual reality,” said Copernicus. “As AIs, we are capable of directly recording every detail of a moment or conversation into hard, uncompromised data. When we so desire, we can revisit that raw data, essentially reliving the experience in its entirety.”
“And that’s what they’re doing?” exhaled James with a frown. “Reliving an experience? What experience could possibly be so powerful that it takes them offline?”
“James,” Copernicus warned ominously. “Given the lack of activity within the memory banks of either twin, I can say with absolute certainty that whatever past experience they are immersed in did not originate from them.”
Knitting his brow, James sucked in a sharp breath, then s
poke slowly, “So you’re telling me that they are trapped in someone else's memory?”
“For lack of a better explanation, yes.”
Remus and Romulus. We are not alone.
Time passed in unnatural torrents and burst as if controlled by a conscious entity. One moment, Remus and Romulus were standing amongst the dancing stalks of tall grass, and in the next, the landscape seemed to blur and shift through light and shadow as the sun climbed and set within seconds, racing across the sky like a missile. Streaks of color swam by in the dissolving texture of the countryside, and sounds like the rushing hum of a sighing forest whipped about them as days became nights, then became days again. Seasons changed in the beat of a heart as the land turned from green to brown to white and back again to repeat itself all over.
Then, as if the controller had suddenly decided to slam on the breaks, the torrent stopped, and the brothers were pitched forwards in the stillness. Flakes of puffy white snow drifted down from a cloudy sky as Remus and Romulus gathered their wits and surveyed the intimidating calm of the moment with curious apprehension. Hearing the beating of heavy feet upon the soft blanket of the snow, they turned to see strange animals meandering across the rolling hills from the south.
Like the great elephants of Earth, these creatures were massive quadrupeds with thick midsections and knobby heads. Their skin was a deep purple—almost maroon—yet they possessed no trunks or tusks. Instead, the beasts had wide mouths filled with flat white teeth and rimmed with stout tentacles or fingers. The giants thundered in mighty herds as they loped across the frozen landscape, kicking up clods of powdery snow and earth. Bleating like guttural trumpeters, they called to one another, stopping here and there to dig at the ground for signs of green. The twins watched with fascination as the alien animals crowded together, grunting and bobbing their heads in the search for food.
“They are so similar to elephants,” murmured Remus with awestruck elation as a group of adults stood close together, creating a shield from the chilly wind for a youngster.
The Ruins of Mars (The Ruins of Mars Trilogy Book 1) Page 17
