by Stan Ruecker
Ray watched Kevin’s readout, a little display that flashed summaries of everything that went on inside the machine.
“I don’t know what all these stats are,” Ray said.
“They don’t mean all that much,” Kevin told him, “but in this case they mean more than they usually do. You’ll get some idea as we go.”
“Can you explain it?”
“I’ll just attach a new drive,” Kevin said, “and we’ll watch it go through its routine.”
Kevin slipped the case off his computer, placed a clear slip of film on top of a stack of similar films on one side, and slid the case closed again.
“This is a fairly small drive,” he said. “About 400 Tet. But it’ll show what I want you to see.”
He dug an external drive out of an envelope.
“This one has storage that you can only write to once: what they used to call a WORM drive.”
“For Write Once, Read Many,” Ray said, then blinked. How the heck I know that kind of garbage, he thought, is beyond me.
“It’s already been written to,” Kevin was saying, “so we have a frozen set of data on here.”
“Like a snapshot.”
“Yeah,” Kevin said. “Actually, it’s the one I mailed to myself. Now when I power up, nothing happens, right?”
Ray was watching the display.
“Right.”
“Now look at the amount of storage on that WORM drive—the one we started with. 75 Tet, right? And about 20 Tet is already used.”
“Okay.”
“Now we’ll send it to copy to the regular drive. What’s the difference between the two drives?”
Ray thought for a minute.
“You can write as many times as you want on a regular drive.”
“Right. So watch the stats over there.”
Plenty seemed to be happening, but the new drive wasn’t getting any extra data. After a few minutes Kevin cancelled the operation by disconnecting the external drive.
“So what have we got?”
“Your new drive went bad. You lost about 20 tetrabytes out of the 400. But nothing got copied over.”
“It all went into hiding.”
Ray sat back, chewed on the edge of his thumbnail. He stopped and looked at Kevin.
“What we have to do,” he said, “is get Lucy… that is, get the alien probe, to come in here and access your system again. You release this thing back into the system just as she starts pulling data.”
“Then she reads the Trojan data along with our real data, and blammo, the code sequences are back in their native environment.”
Blammo? Ray thought.
“But what if it’s dangerous?” he asked. “I mean, what if Lucy, or that is to say, the probe, when it’s attached to the station, it gets this data, then something goes wrong.”
“You saw them blow up a sun,” Kevin reminded him. “What could go more wrong than that?”
“You’ve got a point there,” Ray said. “But still, I’d hate to damage Lucy.”
“I don’t think it’s dangerous,” Kevin said.
“What makes you think that?”
“It was in our systems for over three weeks,” Kevin said. “And it never actually did any damage while it was there. And I’ve had it a lot longer than that on various drives attached to my palmtop, and it hasn’t done anything there, either, except hide. I think it’s waiting to get back into the system that delivered it, that’s all. Would Lucy have left behind something that would damage herself? That isn’t how you’ve described her.”
“No,” Ray admitted. “She wasn’t like that.”
“But do you know where she is?” Kevin asked.
“I don’t suppose we can just radio out into the system and call her—assuming she’d answer now?”
“Not likely,” Kim said.
“Maybe we can create an emergency,” Ray suggested.
“That would need the intervention of a probe?”
“Maybe a problem with military intelligence,” Ray said. “The probes gather information about the systems they visit. What we need is some way to suggest we have important information she missed the first time around.”
Bait
Reconnaissance unit 75389 sat in a silent solar orbit just outside the asteroid belt. She was hardly aware of herself as she pursued her routine work as part of this glorious new destruction. She remembered she’d been a key component in identifying the current target, but that was in the past, and the past was best forgotten. She also had data that indicated she’d been gone long enough on her previous assignment to require a code update. If circumstances arranged themselves according to form, she would eventually be reassigned away from the fleet on another reconnaissance mission.
In the meantime, she was engaged in routine monitoring of radio transmissions from the solar system’s only space station.
Suddenly she came across an encrypted message. She read everything that came in, not because it held any interest for her—personal interest was out of the question—but because it was one of her secondary directives.
Careless, she thought, upon noticing the anomaly. They must have been in a hurry.
The proper way to send a secret message was to include it in a routine transmission as a legible but uninteresting section. It was part of the reason the probe spent so much of its time dealing with the most routine communications—she had to watch for the dullest parts, and examine them minutely for hidden messages. Encryption was a remarkably primitive ploy, even for such a backwater culture.
She started her decryption algorithms. The message came out:
Your presence urgently required. Alternate contact verified. Potential alliance already advanced.
Alternate contact, she thought. Alternate contact.
And “potential alliance.”
They hadn’t been stupid enough to identify either the transmitter or the recipient, but that wasn’t important. What was significant was the phrase “already advanced.”
Could they be talking about another spacefaring race? It would have to be one not already conquered and destroyed, or there would be no suggestion of alliances.
Her primary directive was to identify and study potential new conquests. She was currently assigned to insystem monitoring, but there was no reason she couldn’t gather data from the current victims. She felt a twinge of anticipatory satisfaction at the thought of pursuing her directives so successfully. Targetting races for destruction was her greatest good, and to line up the next one, so early in the process of wiping out the current one, would’ve felt unusually pleasant, had a probe been capable of any but the most rudimentary emotions.
Further and immediate investigation was indicated. Unit 75389 fired off a report to the nearest battlecruiser and left her orbit, heading directly for the space station.
Return of the alien machine
Kevin and Ray sat in one of the Phoenix offices, anxiously watching a video display that showed the approach of the alien probe.
“Just like old times,” Kevin said. “I remember the first time she showed up. Somebody picked her up as she came past Mars, and we didn’t know whether to put out an alarm or try to contact her or what we should do.”
“What did you do?”
“Nothing. We figured somebody higher up must know something about her. It wasn’t our job to be watching for alien probes.”
“How did you know it wasn’t just an unscheduled shuttle from Earth?”
“Good question,” Kevin said. “But it was pretty obvious. The trajectory was completely wrong. There’s only certain windows the shuttles ever use, in order to keep fuel costs down, and she wasn’t using any of them.”
“What happened next?”
“Nothing much. We tuned a receiver to her and picked up some internal chatter, then we just waited to find out what would happen. She didn’t start to broadcast until she was pretty close to the station.”
“Then somebody higher up noticed.”
/> “Yeah. Somebody up in docking control finally clued in. You should have heard the alarms ring.”
“I heard them all the way back to Earth,” Ray said.
His friend pulled the palmtop out of an oversized pocket.
“So what’ll you do when this is all over?” Kevin asked.
“I don’t know. Do you mean our experiment with Lucy, or the invasion?”
“I meant the invasion. They won’t stay here forever, will they?”
“No,” Ray said. “Not exactly.”
“What will they do?”
“Wipe us out.”
“What?”
“They seem to exist in order to destroy other civilizations.”
“Does anybody else know that?”
“I don’t know,” Ray said, and thought for a second. “I guess not.”
“Well,” Kevin said. “You have to tell them.”
“I would if I could figure out how. But for one thing, they fired me. I have no way of reporting to anyone. And you broke me out of jail, which doesn’t make things any easier.”
“Yeah. I guess that’s true, isn’t it?”
“Besides. What good would knowing their intentions do anybody? The question is still whether or not we can get rid of them, isn’t it?”
“Maybe we’d try something different. If we knew there was no bargaining with them.”
“We don’t have what it takes. They’re too tough.”
“So tell me again why we’re bothering to do this?” Kevin said, indicating the palmtop.
“Because this probe was my friend. And I’m hoping she left behind whatever she left behind for a good reason.”
“Fair enough.”
“The other thing to consider is that we haven’t got anything else to do.”
“Good point. I’d like to think I did what I could.”
“Me too.”
“So what do you think? Are we ready?”
“Just let her get into position,” Ray advised. “I’ll give you the word. We don’t want to scare her off by having the station raising an alarm about their computer system.”
He watched the video display, saw Lucy approaching as a distant spot on the display.
“You know,” he told Kevin. “I bet nobody else knows this yet, but Jupiter is inhabited.”
“You’re kidding,” Kevin said. “You mean, by somebody other than these invaders of ours?”
“Yeah. They’re big. Like mantas without tails, and maybe a couple of dozen metres across.”
“They would have to breathe methane. Or they couldn’t live on Jupiter. And that’s probably why they’re so flat—the gravity is heavier.”
“That sounds right. But they get all our transmissions.”
Kevin looked thoughtful.
“You mean we’re being watched,” he said.
“Sort of,” Ray answered. “I kind of got the idea they only watch the football games.”
Kevin laughed, then couldn’t stop laughing. Tears ran down his face.
“Stop,” he told Ray. “Just stop.”
“I’m not joking,” Ray said. “These guys were real sports fans.”
“You actually met them?” Kevin asked, still a bit hysterical. He wiped his eyes with the back of his hand and tried to focus.
“Yeah,” Ray said. “Cinnamon—I mean my dog—and I, we were out on the surface of a moon, trying to figure out what we could tell from the carving on all these stone blocks, then we talked to some of the guys who were doing the carving.”
“Sports fans,” Kevin said. He paused. “So you weren’t actually on Jupiter.”
“No,” Ray said. “I don’t know where we were, but it wasn’t in our solar system anywhere.”
“But these mantas, they talked about Jupiter? Our Jupiter?”
“I didn’t get all of it,” Ray said. “But apparently Jupiter is a lot of fun.”
“I’ll keep that in mind,” Kevin said. “Next time I get some holidays. I don’t suppose you learned how they travel?”
“They didn’t seem to need ships,” Ray said. “If that tells you anything.”
“Hmm,” Kevin said. “It suggests to me they must be able to manipulate gravity. But that would make it less likely they were flat because of high gravity, wouldn’t it?”
“You got me,” Ray said. “All I know is, they could reach terminal velocity without a ship, and they didn’t seem to need an atmosphere to live.”
“Maybe you didn’t actually see the people,” Kevin suggested. “Maybe what you saw were ships, and you mistook them for people.”
Ray thought for a minute.
“It’s possible,” he said. “I never asked them.”
“Wait a minute,” Kevin said. “Didn’t you say you were on a moon?”
“Yeah,” Ray said.
“Airless?”
“As far as I know. I was in a space suit at the time, anyway.”
“So how did you talk to them?”
“Over my suit radio.”
“That settles it,” Kevin said. “They must have been ships of some kind. Nobody has both antigravity and radio built into their bodies.”
“She’s almost here,” Ray said, and pointed to the video display.
The display was showing a closeup of Lucy’s grapples as they projected from her side and engaged the station. A small cable with directional lights was next.
“Here it comes,” Ray told Kevin. “Steady. Steady.”
Someone grabbed Ray by the arm and hauled him to his feet.
“You come with me,” the police officer said. “You’re under arrest.”
“Now!” Ray shouted, and Kevin closed the connection.
The officer reached his free arm over to Kevin. “Okay, you too, Jack,” he said to the programmer. “Your friend here escaped from custody yesterday.”
“Did he?” Kevin asked, and looked accusingly at the escaped prisoner. “You never told me that, Ray. Just let me finish my download here, Officer, and I’ll gladly go anywhere you like. Just a few more seconds… Okay. That’s it. Thank you for your patience.”
He disconnected the palmtop, and the three of them headed back to detention.
Back in the can
“So have you always known how to juggle?” Ray asked.
“No. I learned it as part of being a computer programmer. It goes back a long way,” Kevin said. “The connection between programming and juggling. Would you like to try it?”
“Maybe some other time.”
Ray leaned back in the bunk he had vacated earlier that day, let the soft tsh tsh tsh of Kevin’s juggling lull him into a nap. They were going to go up before a tribunal in the morning, faced with charges of sabotage and treason. By noon tomorrow they would probably be trying to breathe vacuum.
“Did you meet anybody else?” Kevin asked. “I mean, besides our invaders, and these methane guys.”
Ray opened his eyes.
“Sure,” he said. “All sorts of people. Peacocks with marbles in their mouths took me prisoner. Well, not just me, but all of us, actually. That was where I left the thermos behind. Then the probe and I escaped to a space station run by horses that changed colour. There was a dust cloud, too—”
“Just forget I mentioned it,” Kevin said.
“You asked,” said left.
“Maybe he didn’t mean to ask,” Ray told it.
“What?” Kevin asked.
“Don’t talk crazy,” right said. “You can’t not mean to ask. Either you ask or you don’t ask.”
“Hey,” Ray said. “Mind your manners.”
“You mind yours.”
Right bit Ray on the end of the nose.
“Hey,” Kevin said, trying to break it up, but keeping a judicious distance. “Fellas, fellas.”
“He started it,” right told Kevin. “With all his crazy talk.”
“I’ll show you,” left said, and jumped on right.
After a minute they fell apart, panting.
“Y
ou’re pretty tough,” left said.
“You’re okay yourself,” said right.
“How about we shake hands and make up?”
“We have no hands,” right pointed out.
“I thought you were all hands,” Kevin said.
“Who’s the wise guy?” left asked.
“What’s it to you?” right said. “He’s a friend of mine.”
“You and your friends,” left said. Always volatile, they jumped on each other again and struggled violently. Suddenly both of them flew straight up in the air and came down in a heap on Ray’s chest.
There was a thump down the corridor as someone opened the hall door, and footsteps approached their room.
“Ray,” Kevin said, and stuffed his beanbags in his pockets. “Somebody’s coming.”
Ray pulled his socks off his hands and tugged them back onto his feet, then rolled over and looked toward the door. It opened to Cinnamon, who hurled herself across the room and enthusiastically joined Ray on the bed.
“I take it that’s your dog,” Kevin said.
Ray looked up from Cinnamon’s persistent licking. Standing in the doorway was a shiny feminine robot. Next to her was George Mendes, who never stopped wringing his hands.
The robot ignored Mendes entirely and addressed herself to Ray.
“For a professional fixer,” Lucy said, “You sure seem to spend a lot of time locked in little rooms.”
Resurrection
“So you left your personality behind in our station records,” Kevin said, “and trusted that we’d be too stupid to find it?”
“Not exactly,” Lucy said. “I left behind a camouflaged code matrix that could reproduce my personality under the right conditions. But you knew that.”
Kevin smiled.
“It took a while to figure out,” he said. “And I never did know what it was designed to reproduce.”
“There was no way you could know,” Lucy said. “Not with your technology. But I didn’t have to trust that you wouldn’t find it. I knew that anyone smart enough to disentangle it would be smart enough to figure it had some purpose. The only factor out of my control was the information that I could be trusted. That was where Ray came in. So assuming you found the code, and assuming you knew enough to keep it somewhere safe, there was the chance that Ray would be able to come back and tell you to put it back when I got here. But I couldn’t be sure he’d make it back alive. Ray’s safe return was our single biggest risk.”
