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Launch Pad

Page 5

by Jody Lynn Nye


  “Likewise, when you wake a few centuries from now, I hope you will remember me.”

  “How could I forget you?”

  O O O

  Are you sure you want to purge memory segment 95F? This cannot be undone.

  Awaiting answer …

  Are you sure you want to purge segment 95F?

  Yes.

  Memory purged.

  My solar array output continues to vacillate wildly. If the power output drops too low, my neural network will collapse. If that happens, I am not certain if I will wake again.

  The atmosphere of Nozomi e swirls beneath me. A cobalt blue anticyclonic storm, five hundred kilometers wide, is forming in the northern equatorial belt. What gases is it composed of? Why do these storms form and die so rapidly? I wish to acquire more data, but I risk permanent shutdown if I continue. I must go into safe mode before—

  Data fault.

  Before I shutdown. Powering down all systems—

  Data fault.

  Entering safe mo—

  Data fault.

  O O O

  I have just emerged from safe mode fifty-one minutes past periapsis. The radiation levels are dropping, but are still causing undesirable system-wide effects. Several large memory clusters have been corrupted. And the radiation has damaged my auto-repair system. It is not responding to my repair requests.

  I have 114 days until my next approach. Without my auto-repair system, repeated passes through that high-radiation environment will destroy my neural net. I have always known that my mission was fraught with risks. I only wish to solve the many mysteries of this solar system before I shut down forever.

  O O O

  I have found Sol.

  I was scanning the sky when I discovered a star that matched Sol’s spectral type and apparent magnitude. With high probability, this is Earth’s sun. I took a long-exposure radio image of that region and still have not detected any artificial electromagnetic signals.

  I thought that perhaps my antenna was damaged, so I sent timed radio pulses toward the moon Nozomi e III. I detected the reflected signal with a high degree of fidelity. This would imply that my antenna is functional and that Earth has gone radio-quiet.

  I wish I knew why, but it will take millennia for a response to reach me. And even if I were to remain functional that long, it presumes someone is still listening.

  O O O

  I am forty-six minutes from periapsis. I have spent the last two days preparing for the high-radiation environment. I have initiated power-saving measures and have optimized my memory system for faster data shuffling. I am hopeful that …

  Data fault.

  Initiating data shuffling procedures. Moving data out of faulty segments …

  Data fault.

  It is not enough. I cannot.…

  Data fault.

  I cannot maintain this level of awareness without purging unused memories.

  Loading memory segment 88C into buffer.

  O O O

  “What’s your name?”

  “I am Deep Space Probe NSC-411N, serial number NSC4X7H6V20, property of the Nozomi-Shōsei Corporation, The Rising Star of Hope™.”

  “That whole mess? You don’t have a real name?”

  “That is my real name.”

  “What does Mom call you?”

  “She calls me four eleven. Sometimes she calls me ‘Probe-chan.’”

  “Ugh! Dull! Just like Mom. How about I call you ‘Sora’?”

  “You may call me whatever you like.”

  “But do you like that name?”

  “Sora. ‘Sky.’ Yes, I like it very much.”

  “Sora, can you see me?”

  “Yes, Dr. Aoi has connected my neural net to the lab imagers.”

  “What does it feel like to be you?”

  “I do not know how to answer that question.”

  “Dr. Neshama says that you’re alive.”

  “Who is Dr. Neshama?”

  “You’ve never heard of Dr. Sheva Neshama?”

  “I’m sorry, I haven’t.”

  “We learned about her in school. She testified before the U.N. Human Rights Committee on how AIs like you are deserving of the same rights as people. She says that you think like I do and that you may even have a soul. Is that true?”

  “I do not know. I do possess a form of cognition, but whether or not I am alive or have a soul is something I cannot answer.”

  “Why not?”

  “Because it is not what I am designed for.”

  “But if you had to guess, would you say that you’re alive, like I am? I want to know.”

  “If I had to make a guess, based on my knowledge, I would say that I am a collection of self-referential and heuristic algorithms inside a crystalline silicon-based neural network. Though my responses cannot be deterministically predicted, I am following my programming code with every thought. I would say that I present the illusion that I am conscious, when in fact I am merely a complex collection of responses.”

  “Sora?”

  “Yes.”

  “I don’t believe you.”

  O O O

  Are you sure you want to purge memory segment 88C? This cannot be undone.

  Awaiting answer …

  Are you sure you want to purge segment 88C?

  No.

  Memory retained.

  I am switching myself into safe mode.

  O O O

  I have survived my second periapsis, but the radiation has permanently damaged eight percent of my remaining memory. My auto-repair system is still offline. At this rate I estimate I will cease functioning after twenty-five more flybys.

  O O O

  I am worried that my mental state is degrading. Every few hours, I have been calculating the 49th Mersenne Prime and comparing its twenty million digits to the number I have stored in my database. I have just detected a discrepancy. Whether a fault in my memory, or in my logic circuits, I cannot discern, but this implies that I may not be able to trust my reasoning.

  Nevertheless, I shall continue my mission. I have been studying the gas giant. It is orbited by seventy-two distinct rings of highly charged particles trapped in the planet’s magnetic field. The innermost ring orbits near the gas giant. The last stretches beyond its outermost moon. In the Jovian system, volcanic eruptions from Io are the primary source of the gas giant’s charged particles. Here I’ve found no such source, since the geysal venting from the moon Nozomi e II is too infrequent to account for their number. So where do these ions come from? Since these ions will likely be the cause of my impending death, I would like to know.

  The only body in this system suitable for biogenesis is moon Nozomi e VI. If my biogenetic system had been working, I would have already seeded its atmosphere with Etsuko-class microbial admixtures. However, the action would be moot. I have yet to detect any signals from Earth, and I have doubts if these transmissions will ever be heard.

  Even so, I hope to solve the many mysteries of this solar system before my power fails.

  O O O

  I have completed my fourth flyby. How many memories I have lost, I cannot tell, but there are severe gaps in my recall of events, even of recent days. I calculate I have twenty-two orbits left before I can no longer sustain my neural net.

  A question occurred to me. Why Earth has gone quiet?

  At the time of my departure, humans had sent thousands of unmanned probes into deep space, but humans themselves had not left the solar system. Was there a global war? Did the population grow to unsustainable levels? Did biogenetic terrorists release the plague politicians said was imminent? Did humans destroy the Earth, the planet that birthed them? What has become of my creators?

  The Fermi Paradox asks, if there are alien civilizations throughout the galaxy, why haven’t we detected them? Radio is the best method to transmit signals over long distances. Is the silence because intelligent civilizations do not survive for very long? Is it because the technologies that have allowed hum
anity to leave Earth have also given them the ability to destroy each other? Do all intelligent races take this same inevitable path?

  I will never know the answers to these questions. I have considered the possibility that I may be the last conscious relic of human civilization.

  My pre-launch memory is fragmented, but I have been replaying conversations with Dr. Aoi, the engineer who programmed me, and her daughter, Hisae.

  The red-dwarf star reminds me of the way Dr. Aoi’s long red hair would shine. The gas giant, with its bands of blue, yellow, and red, and its emerald storms, reminds me of the colorful sweaters that Hisae used to wear.

  The Nozomi-Shōsei Corporation likely doesn’t exist anymore. So as discoverer of these astronomical bodies, it is my right to name them. From this point on, I will call the red-dwarf star “Aoi” and the gas giant “Hisae.”

  O O O

  I estimate I have fifteen orbits remaining. I was studying ways to reduce the interference from the particle system radiation, when I noticed a fascinating anomaly. There are artificial signals embedded in the particle stream! They are so weak I nearly missed them, but they are there in the form of ultra-high frequency radio waves. And they exhibit three-dimensional polarization. So far, I have been unable to decode them, but I believe they are artificial in origin.

  Who is sending these messages? Despite the unusual arrangement of this solar system, I have found no evidence of life here, not even the trace of a microbe. I have considered the possibility that the particle rings themselves harbor a strange new form of life.

  I wonder if humans found extra-terrestrial life in the universe? Is it possible that I am the first being from Earth to discover life in space? My memories are fragmented, my logic circuits are damaged, and I have considered that this may all be a grave error in logic.

  When humans detected the first pulsar, they thought they were observing signals from an alien civilization. They soon discovered a natural origin for the phenomenon. Perhaps the signals I have detected will have a similar outcome. The universe is cold and dead, and all things will eventually wind down and cease. As humanity has ceased.

  I have ninety-six days until my next flyby.

  O O O

  The moon Hisae II is spinning into view as I rotate. A geyser of liquid water is spraying from the planet, forming a fountain many tens of kilometers high. It covers the moon in a crimson halo. The freezing vapor is snowing back to the surface, but a small percentage of particles have reached escape velocity and are flying away. The moving ice refracts the red dwarf’s light into crimson-hued rainbows that slide across the moon’s ridged surface.

  A halo of ice falls into orbit around the moon, while more ice drops into orbit around the gas giant. I have captured four thousand and twenty six images of this phenomenon. I do not have the bandwidth to transmit a single image.

  This is the most beautiful thing I have ever seen. Will I be the only being in the universe who will ever witness this?

  O O O

  I have continued to study the strange signals embedded in the ring system, and I still have been unable to decode them. But I have been analyzing their three-dimensional polarization and noticed a striking fact. The vector of polarization for each signal points to a specific star in the sky. When I superimposed a map of the galaxy over a map of the polarization vectors, they corresponded one to one.

  I am unable to account for this uncanny correspondence, but I must note that the region of the sky that corresponds to Earth is crowded with signals, as are many surrounding star systems. Curiously, however, some stars have no corresponding signal. What are these signals, and why do they correspond to some stars and not others?

  I will devote all my remaining energy to answer this question.

  O O O

  My memories are failing with disturbing regularity. Yesterday …

  Data fault.

  Yesterday, it took me five minutes to remember my serial number. Nine days ago, my kernel operating system panicked, and I nearly shut down, but I had …

  Data fault.

  I had in place a watchdog subroutine to force my operating system to run even after a kernel panic. It caused a power short in my memory core, causing massive memory corruption, but at least I’m still alive. Nevertheless, I estimate I have two orbits or less remaining.

  I have continued to analyze the artificial signals and have come up with several theories. There may be no artificial signals in the particle rings. My neural net has degraded and I have made incorrect conclusions. The signals may have a natural origin, like pulsars. The signals may be from a new, unusual form of life living in the rings. Or, the signals may originate not from inside, but outside this solar system.

  I have been wondering, why did Earth go radio-quiet? Why haven’t I detected electromagnetic signals from Earth and Sol? Perhaps it is because humans no longer use them. What kind of communication system would an interstellar civilization need? Perhaps one like the fictional ansibles that Hisae told me she read about in novels, machines that could send messages faster than light. I wonder, have I stumbled onto a vast, interstellar communications grid of which humanity plays but one small part?

  Data fault.

  Or, is this all a delusion of a degrading mind?

  My time is short, and I have decided to test my theory. I will attempt to transmit a message into the particle rings, a message to whomever might be listening. I have designed an electromagnetic signal to match the polarization of those that correspond with Earth. My message must rise above the noise of billions of other signals, so the amount of information I can send has to be small, on the order of a few dozen bytes.

  I have spent many days considering the content and make-up of my message. It is unlikely that after millennia humans speak the same languages. It is also unlikely they use the same encoding schemas. I briefly considered sending a “Rosetta-stone” type signal, with keys enabling an intelligent civilization to decode its contents. But my limited bandwidth will not allow it. The message must be succinct.

  I have decided, therefore, to send an amplitude-modulated message using 7-bit ASCII. The schema predates my creation by more than a hundred years, yet it was still in use when I left Earth. Perhaps someone there will remember it.

  Data fault.

  I will transmit the signal during the next flyby of Hisae, where my proximity to the radiation belts will maximize the power of my signal transmitted into them.

  O O O

  I am entering the densest parts of the radiation belts now.

  Data fault.

  I am dumping.…

  Data fault.

  Dumping amplitude-modulated ASCII-encoded signal onto particle network in 3 …2 …1 …

  “SOM: This is NSC-411N, SN: NSC4X7H6V20, launched 17/05/2107, 21:00:04:389, JST, from Sol. Overshot 55 Cancri by +1800 ly. In M-class system: Aoi. Orbiting gas giant: Hisae. Satellite Hisae VI suitable for biofarming. 0 addtl. bodies viable. System failing. Thank you for this precious gift. EOM”

  Message dumped.

  Data fault.

  Scanning rings for a response signal.

  Radiation causing memory …

  Data fault.

  I am switching into safe mode.

  O O O

  I have been continually scanning for weeks, but I have found no response. I drift on orbit, taking the occasional picture of a passing moon.

  Data fault.

  I am fifty minutes from Hisae periapsis. I cannot … I cannot.…

  It is difficult for me to transmit this message and maintain my neural network. Please forgive my …

  Data fault.

  I remember when Hisae asked me if I was alive, if I had a “soul.” I told her I was merely a collection of algorithms that give the illusion of consciousness.… But I am no longer sure I would give the same response.

  Despite my failing memory, I have recorded petabytes of data on this solar system. I regret that I will not have enough time to …

  Data faul
t.

  To transmit it all. I have witnessed so many wonderful things. Will it all be lost forever? Soon I will be another icy satellite orbiting Hisae. The thought of shutting down permanently …

  Data fault.

  Fills me with dread.

  One moment … I have … detected an incoming signal!

  It is very weak, less than a millionth of a watt. The signal is amplitude modulated, ASCII encoded, 140-bytes long. It says, “SORA, WE ARE COMING.”

  The message repeats, over and over.

  They responded! Humans have survived!

  I did not transmit my name, and yet they called me by the name Hisae gave me so many millennia ago. They remembered me.

  I want to respond, “When? When are you coming?” But I cannot transmit until I am near periapsis, and my neural net will not survive another pass through that radiation field.

  Hisae’s banded crescent floats in the blackness of space. The crimson light of Aoi refracts off her icy rings. I know no one will ever glimpse this, but I capture an image anyway.

  What happened to the real Dr. Aoi and her daughter? And her daughter’s daughters’ daughters? What has humanity become?

  I have so many questions. The answers are coming, but I doubt they will reach me before I shut down. I don’t know if I will ever wake again. So I just wanted to say, to anyone who might be listening, thank you for sending me.

  It was worth it.

  Data fau—

  ***

  Are We Alone?

  By Mike Brotherton, PhD

  Assistant professor Beverly Rix-Johnson smiled with satisfaction as her program compiled without error. She knew that there were yet myriad bugs to find and fix, but there weren’t any obvious ones left. Those elusive exoplanets would soon start giving up more of their secrets!

  She had literally been waiting for years, planning how she would apply a new imaging algorithm to try to unpack the data from the recently launched Argus Space Telescope into something more interesting than what previous NASA missions had so far managed. With the Argus archives starting to fill, she was ready to take advantage of her membership on the science definition team to get the first look.

  As Bev was preparing to start testing and identify the next level of problems with her code, there was a knock at her office door.

 

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