The Death of the Universe: Ghost Kingdom: Hard Science Fiction (Big Rip Book 2)

by Brandon Q Morris

  The Death of the Universe: Ghost Kingdom

  Hard Science Fiction

  Brandon Q. Morris

  Contents

  The Death of the Universe: Ghost Kingdom

  Author's Note

  Also by Brandon Q. Morris

  The Guided Tour to Relativity

  Glossary of Acronyms

  Metric to English Conversions

  Copyright

  The Death of the Universe: Ghost Kingdom

  Cycle FM 1.3, Gigadyson

  Autonomous Unit ZT34 drifted in unpowered free-fall through space, following an almost circular orbit and moving at a hundredth of the speed of light. Her instruments were focused on the outer wall of the Gigadyson, the gigantic Dyson sphere that encompassed the quasar at the core of the Milky Way, making its energy available to humanity. ZT34 was equipped with sensors for the entire energy spectrum. If something was amiss with the enormous wall above which she was drifting, she would register it.

  “Potential disturbance at coordinates 6-3-3/4-5-5.”

  The warning came from unit YK19, one of her million siblings. ZT34 called up her sibling’s course data. YK19’s orbit put her in the vicinity of the south pole of the Dyson sphere. From her sister’s position, the coordinates of the supposed disturbance lay just before the horizon, so it was very likely that YK19 was experiencing a false alarm. ZT34 was pleased, nevertheless. She was equipped with a primitive AI, not above level 2. Her reward system was equally simple. It was activated by a problem, and if she found a solution, she was happy.

  It wasn’t a bad life. ZT34 had been orbiting the Gigadyson for the majority of its existence. So far she had only eliminated a single disturbance. A small asteroid had impacted the outer wall of the sphere. That would usually be a harmless event, but this one’s core had become stuck to the wall and thus it distorted the gravitational wave signature—not yet a significant problem, but a disturbance which, if it had escalated, could have led to critical issues. For that reason it had to be eliminated.

  How long ago was that, now? ZT34 calculated the cycles to the precise nanosecond. It was a nice way to pass the time. Sometimes she would even attempt to formulate the most unlikely possible solutions to the general theory of relativity. No one could accuse her of having no imagination.

  “Coordinates received,” she responded to YK19.

  That was sufficient. As far as her sister was concerned, the problem was resolved. YK19 would have preferred to take care of it herself, but that would have been inefficient from her orbit. And her reward system also rewarded efficiency.

  ZT34 overlaid the position of the likely disturbance onto her image of the Gigadyson. She would fly almost directly over it, which meant a course correction wouldn’t be required. But now she was disappointed that she hadn’t received the message earlier. To be able to solve the problem, if there even was one, she would have needed to reduce the height of her orbit some time ago, because her propulsion units weren’t strong enough to land her at the site of the disturbance from her current position. So she’d have to transmit what she saw to another one of her sisters. ZT34 decided to ask for a live stream of the problem’s elimination to be sent to her.

  The repair probe turned on her active sensors. She was only 715 seconds away from the disturbance. The radar showed a three-dimensional representation of the outer shell of the Gigadyson. ZT34 counted the massive honeycombs that were made of a special alloy. Their surfaces were covered in fine scratches. It looked like an animal with sharp claws had been asking to be let in. But it was simply the evidence that space wasn’t empty. The core of the Milky Way acted as a vast gravitational sink that all the trash from the surrounding area gradually rolled into.

  ZT34 was proud of herself. If it wasn’t for her and her sisters, one of these surface scratches would at some point grow into a tiny crack, and then the radiation pressure from inside would tear the whole sphere apart in an explosion. That would also mean her own death, but that scenario didn’t frighten her. Her designer had omitted any survival instincts. After all, the probe was supposed to sacrifice her life in an emergency, without hesitation.

  Suddenly ZT34 couldn’t see the honeycomb. Instead she detected a cylindrical, flat-topped, solid mass, which seemed to have attached itself to the outer shell of the Gigadyson. It was a couple of meters tall and a few hundred meters wide. YK19 was right. There was an anomaly here, of the highest category. This wasn’t the remains of an unfortunate asteroid.

  ZT34 observed the object in all wavelengths simultaneously. That was her particular expertise. She could simultaneously evaluate infrared, optical, ultraviolet, X-ray, and gamma radiation. All of her talents were needed. ZT34 felt a rush of happiness. Her reward center was operating at full tilt. There were so many measurements to calculate!

  The solid mass attached to the Gigadyson was obviously not merely there. Something was happening inside it. ZT34 noted thousands of energy streams, and the object even changed shape. Slightly, but measurably, as the probe flew past it. But where was the material for that coming from? There was only one possible explanation—the object was processing the substance of the sphere somehow, and in doing so it was weakening the entire structure.

  A shock flashed through ZT34’s consciousness, the visible signal that was activated automatically whenever a danger limit was exceeded. The probe immediately stopped analyzing the data. The situation was obviously so serious that ZT34 had to send a report immediately. She collated the most critical data into a packet. Then she oriented herself in space. ZT34 had to adjust her antennas in such a way that she could reach the highest possible number of monitoring stations simultaneously. She directed her sensors—which until this point had all been examining the Sphere—out into the space around her.

  She wasn’t alone!

  A spaceship was drifting along in almost exactly the same orbit as she was. ZT34 determined the type and registration. It was a ninety-niner. She had to pass on this data! Who did the ship belong to, and what was it looking for? This area was off-limits. The spaceship must have something to do with the object on the shell of the Gigadyson! According to the latest data available to her, it was authorized to...

  ZT34 had a heat seizure. The probe detected a high-energy X-ray flash, but then couldn’t focus on it anymore. Her shell melted, the lonely probe ruptured, and her consciousness evaporated.

  Cycle GK 2.1, Kepler-1229

  Zhenyi tore open the outer door of the shuttle before they had even come to a standstill.

  “Hey, wait,” called Kepler.

  But she didn’t listen. Alarms were going off all over the cabin. Zhenyi had bypassed various security procedures by disembarking too hastily, and the automated system was now complaining about every single protocol violation.

  Kepler couldn’t turn the alarms off fast enough. “That’s what she’s like, you know. Nothing can be done about it,” he said, apologizing to the system on Zhenyi’s behalf.

  But the program wasn’t interested. The warning lights went out, one after another. It was quiet again. Kepler leaned back and breathed deeply. The air felt aromatic. He could smell peppermint and earthy tobacco—no comparison to the air in Zhenyi’s base on K2-288b, which was optimized for his human lungs, but still artificial.

  Kepler unbuckled himself. How would the Herbae have adapted to their new habitat? Their last visit had been centuries ago. Isaac Newton had promised to keep an eye on the planet—his own creation. But there were still the original indigenous, terrestrial flora and fauna with which Newt
on had populated it. Had the Herbae managed to establish themselves under these conditions? And how was the butler, who had assumed the job of gardener here? Kepler wondered.

  He checked the controls once more. Everything read zero. The fuel line was shut off. Zhenyi tended to forget the small things, and yet those were what often led to catastrophes. But she was really good at the big picture stuff, and he admired her for that.

  Kepler stood up, groaning, and went to the door. His body was displaying unfamiliar signs of weakness. He would have to check the nanomachines soon. They were supposed to keep him in peak condition, and the lower back pain he’d been experiencing recently shouldn’t be there. Zhenyi said it was due to his laziness. If he didn’t use his muscles, then there was nothing the little repair machines in his body could do about it.

  He took another deep breath. The spicy smell was terrific. He would suggest to Zhenyi that they base themselves here. Anyway, what were they supposed to do on the ancient planet where they had recently been living—one that was scorched and lacked an atmosphere? The only problem with this nameless planet orbiting around Kepler-1229 was that it was so hard to get to, because there were 415 other identically-sized planets orbiting around the same sun. That meant every shuttle flight was risky. And Zhenyi had insisted on flying it manually! He had been so terrified he’d almost lost control of his bowels. If they had disturbed the orbit of just one planet, it would have meant the collapse of the entire system.

  He gripped the railing and walked down the access steps. Then he knelt and laid his bare hand on the ground. Kepler felt the soft soil under his skin. It was very warm. That must have been the residual heat from the landing gear. The soil crumbled in his fingers. It was dried out, which would also be due to the thrusters. He picked up some soil in his hand and spat on it. The liquid soaked into the dirt. The mass in his hand suddenly smelled fertile and full of life.

  Kepler straightened up and looked around. Where was Zhenyi? She seemed to have disappeared. Had the Herbae somehow pulled her under the surface? About 100 meters to his right was a hill. He’d have a better view from there. Wasn’t that the spot where they had watched the Milky Way being reborn into a quasar?

  He stood up and dusted the soil off his knees and hands. He made his way slowly to the hill. Kepler was enjoying the walk. The air was fresh, the ground soft and springy and covered with grass. It couldn’t be the Herbae, because this grass didn’t retreat from his footsteps. Kepler whistled a melody. It was utterly quiet. That was the one thing that bothered him. Why hadn’t Newton introduced any birds? And what about insects? He’d have to ask him when they were back at his station. But maybe it was easier to build an ecosystem based around wind pollination.

  The ground began to slope upward. Kepler had reached the foot of the hill. The slope was steeper than it had looked from the shuttle and he was soon out of breath. He really needed to do something about his fitness. He reached the top, sweating. The grass here was only a few centimeters high and looked quite different from the grass lower down. The stems were broader and more rigid.

  Kepler turned 360 degrees on the spot. There was no sign of Zhenyi. He should have brought a telescope! He oriented himself. It was just after midday, so the sun lay roughly in the south. The machines that Newton used to keep the planet’s orbit stable must be located somewhere quite far away, beyond the horizon. The grass-covered, gently hilly plain appeared to stretch on indefinitely. It almost looked like the home planet of the Herbae, except that the sun didn’t shine here from a fixed position in the sky, and it was a little brighter.

  The shuttle was to the north of him. Kepler was surprised at how small it appeared. It couldn’t be more than 100 meters away. And to the west... there was something there. Kepler could make out a strange structure. It was too steep to be a hill. It towered into the air like a needle of rock, but it was obviously not made of stone, because it was brightly colored. He could see that even from this vantage point. That must be where Zhenyi had gone.

  He climbed back down the hill. He noticed an ache in his right knee, and tried to ignore it. At the bottom the grass was taller again. It pained Kepler to have to walk on it. Either the Herbae hadn’t taken over here, or they’d lost the ability to interact with their environment.

  The closer he got to the strange structure, the more it seemed to resemble a large bush. He walked all the way around it once. It was obviously something that had grown here, rather than something constructed. But he couldn’t see any branches or twigs, just blades of grass that divided and spread out above him. Flowers grew out of their ends. Some of them looked like tulips, others like rose blossoms, and some were unidentifiable. They were red, yellow, blue, violet, orange. He could see every color but green, which seemed to be reserved for the stems.

  The bush was a marvel, and it was beautiful. Kepler walked around it a few times. The marvelous bush looked different from every angle, as though it was changing as he circled it. Kepler’s heart almost stopped when he saw an opening form. Beyond it he recognized a black jacket and the edge of a white shirt. Then a face appeared, too. It was the butler! Kepler was immensely pleased to see him. He had once saved their lives.

  “Hey, Puppy,” he said, “I’m so glad to see you. Are you well?”

  “The best, Johannes.”

  The butler reached an arm out of the bush and beckoned him closer. “Come and join us!” he said.

  Us? Kepler took a few careful steps closer. Then he recognized a browned, naked arm. Zhenyi. It had to be Zhenyi. Of course she had found the butler before he had.

  “What... what are you doing in there?” Kepler asked. He was reminded of the strange way they had communicated with the Herbae previously. He’d had to completely undress and allow himself to be enveloped by worm-like roots.

  “That will be easier to explain if you come here,” Zhenyi replied. She pushed her upper body out of the bush. A red blossom was stuck behind her ear, and another that alternated between blue and violet was caught in her dark hair.

  Zhenyi was beautiful. If he hadn’t already loved her for as long as he could remember, at this moment he would have been inflamed with love.

  But she was clothed. That was reassuring. It meant he wasn’t going to have to undress in front of the two of them. Because he was sure that their hiding place in the blossoming bush had something to do with the secretive Herbae.

  “Okay, I’m coming,” he said, but still he hesitated.

  What surprise would be waiting for him this time? He remembered the pale, repulsive roots that had wound themselves around his naked limbs on the unknown planet. Then Kepler pulled himself together. He walked forward and touched one of the green stems. It was surprisingly rigid, as though it was made of a very light metal. The stem could be bent without any great effort, but as soon as he let go of it, it straightened out again.

  “Stop keeping me in suspense!” said Zhenyi.

  As though he was the one providing the suspense here! Why didn’t she just tell him what was happening? Kepler pushed the stems to the side with both hands so that a gap formed in the bush of blossoms. Then he stepped inside.

  “Just a bit further,” said Zhenyi, “so that you’re completely inside.”

  Kepler pushed his head in and pressed the stems in front of him gently to the sides.

  “No need to be so timid,” said Zhenyi, “you can’t break anything.”

  Well, if you say so! Kepler took two bold steps forward. His body created the space he needed. All at once he was surrounded by an aroma that he hadn’t smelled for a long time but recognized immediately—camphor. The smell reminded him of pungent medicine, and of the Herbae as he had previously known them.

  A hand touched his side and he jumped.

  “It’s only me,” said Zhenyi. “Sit down and make yourself comfortable.”

  His girlfriend was funny. He had just crept into a giant bush and was now supposed to make himself comfortable? Kepler reached down to support himself and sat down.


  “Lean back,” said Zhenyi.

  He stayed sitting up straight, because he didn’t want to fall backward into the bush. What was all this about?

  “Just trust me!” Zhenyi scolded.

  Kepler carefully shifted his weight backward. He felt something at his back. Was it the stems touching him? He leaned further back. The bush actually caught him and held him up. Kepler stretched out his legs. It really was comfortable! The elastic stems seemed to understand what was good for him. They pushed up under his arms too, which were now supported as though on armrests. They lifted his legs. Kepler lost contact with the ground. He was floating on the stems as though on a bed in the sky. This was a remarkable invention! Was it one of the butler’s ideas?

  Then something touched the top of his head. His scalp tickled and goosebumps formed on his arms. The stems were gently massaging his head, stroking his temples, tickling his ears, and laying themselves across his forehead.

  “Took you long enough,” said Zhenyi.

  But he wasn’t actually hearing her voice, it was directly inside his head. She was wearing a long-sleeved dress embroidered with flowers. A campfire flickered in front of her. She turned around and invited him to join them. Puppy, the butler, was already sitting there. It was dark. All Kepler could see was Puppy’s face, which was lit up by the fire and appeared to float above his stiff, white shirt collar as if it were a light bulb and the shirt was the socket.

  Zhenyi was also sitting by the fire, 120 degrees to the left of the butler. Kepler had no choice but to complete the symmetry by sitting on the ground to Puppy’s right. Now they formed an equilateral triangle, with the crackling fire in their midst. The fire was hot. Kepler had to hold up his hand to shield his face, or he would have been unable to withstand the heat. He looked up toward the sky. On a black, tent-like roof hung small flowers in place of stars. Whose magnificent imagination were they currently sitting in? Had Zhenyi conceived all this? The butler? Or even the Herbae?