“You could just pack it for us,” said Zhenyi.
“No, please. Of course we’ll eat with you,” said Kepler. “A few minutes really won’t make any difference.”
Zhenyi creased her forehead but said nothing.
Newton’s lasagna was excellent. You could tell it was made almost entirely out of fresh ingredients. The butler had loaded two-thirds of Newton’s supplies into the ship. On his own, he didn’t need anywhere near the amount that his planets provided, Newton had told them.
“A glass of grappa before you go?” asked Newton.
“No alcohol at the helm,” Zhenyi said, declining.
“I’d like to try a glass,” said Kepler. “Is that naturally grown too?”
Newton laughed. “No, the alcohol is chemically produced. Winegrowing is beyond my abilities. But if you leave the butler with me, I could give it a try.”
“Sorry,” said Zhenyi, “I don’t want to be separated from him again so soon. But if you feel lonely, you’re welcome to accompany us.”
“No, I have to regulate the orbital mechanics of the planets.”
A shrill alarm pierced the air. What was that? Was a collision imminent? Newton jumped up. The alarm tone faded away.
“Those weirdos at the Convention,” he said. “They’ve just sent a high-priority message. Hence the alarm.”
“And? Is the world ending again?” asked Zhenyi.
Newton’s head moved back and forth over a screen.
“I don’t know,” he said finally. “They’re requesting that you accept an assignment.”
“Us?” asked Kepler.
“Yes, you and Zhenyi. That is, Zhenyi and you, it says in the message.”
“What do they want?” asked Zhenyi.
“You’re supposed to find that out when you visit the Convention.”
“Oh, great. And they expect us to change our travel plans for such a vague request?”
“The downfall of the universe hangs in the balance, it says, and they think that those who rescued it last time are the most suitable candidates to be its rescuers a second time.”
Cycle GO 7.6, Gigadyson
FF01 was afraid. She had always been very timid. Maybe there had been a problem when they cloned her consciousness. She’d harbored this suspicion as long as she’d been aware of her own existence. The autonomous unit had been commissioned after her first ten sisters had been destroyed in one way or another. She had the deaths of other probes to thank for her existence. So it was clear to her that life wasn’t endless.
But she was still afraid. The feeling lurked in the background with every light year she traveled. She couldn’t shake it off. Especially not now, with all the rumors the units were spreading among themselves. There was an unknown danger at play—that much was obvious. Why were the rumors so frightening to her? Was it her own nature? Was her psyche at fault? FF01 didn’t believe that. She thought it was because there were no similarities between the various events.
Then her scientific module chimed in. There had only been two incidents, so it was far too soon to draw any statistical conclusions. If, at some point, there were 20 such incidents, then it would be possible to draw conclusions about a cause.
FF01 gave more thrust. The sooner she reached the coordinates issued by the system, the sooner she could devote herself once more to her routine.
FF01 anxiously approached the destination. Her sensors were listening and looking out into space. And then there they were. Two humans were tampering with the entrance to a maintenance tunnel on the surface of the Gigadyson. It was unmistakable. Neither of them seemed to be paying any attention to the probe above them. FF01 weighed her options. Weren’t two humans on their own completely harmless? There was no spaceship to be seen—as strange as that was, because humans couldn’t have gotten here without a ship. But there wasn’t one, or her sensors would have already detected it.
FF01 prepared a report back to the system. The facts were indisputable. Two intruders were trying to enter the sphere at the identified location. They couldn’t escape. It would be enough for FF01 to inform the system and then calmly fly on. Someone else would pick up the two humans and administer the punishment they deserved. Although it wasn’t clear what the intruders were trying to do, if it was illegal in any way, the system would have to be informed.
The autonomous unit attached photographic images to her message. Maybe the system would be able to use them to determine the identities of the astronauts. FF01 herself had no access to those kinds of databases. She encrypted and packaged the message and sent it off.
The reply came almost immediately.
But that was impossible. The next system node was seven light-minutes away. The acknowledgment her antennas had just received should have taken 14 minutes to reach her. FF01 was so bewildered that she performed a self-test. Maybe cosmic radiation had damaged her electronics. But her hardware wasn’t defective. The reply must have been manipulated. But by whom?
The two astronauts down below were going about their work without paying any attention to the autonomous unit. One of them disappeared head-first into the shaft. FF01 extended her head and swiveled it, but she didn’t manage to attract the attention of the humans. She ignited her thruster. Maybe now they would notice they weren’t alone. Strangely, FF01 regarded them more as allies than enemies at this point.
The probe began to move. Her inertial sensors measured her acceleration, but just before she switched off the thruster, she slowed down again. That couldn’t be right. The acceleration should remain constant as long as the thruster was firing. FF01 tried a second time. The effect became more pronounced. The thruster only briefly reached maximum power, and then the acceleration rapidly decreased. It was as though the probe was attempting to penetrate a wad of cotton.
But the universe wasn’t a wad of cotton. That idea actually appealed to FF01, but at the moment it also frightened her. Was the universe altering its aggregate state? Maybe it was in the process of sliding from a state of excitation to its default state? No, that didn’t make sense. The human that was still on the surface of the Gigadyson was moving around normally. The movement looked like dancing. The universe was apparently functioning as usual for them. The change was only affecting her.
FF01 could no longer suppress her fear. She was trapped! She had to get out of here immediately! The infinity of space out there was nothing but an illusion. She was stuck in a fold of space. FF01 set her thruster to maximum power. She fought against the dense space all around her, but she had no chance. The cotton wad hit back. Her legs buckled and were pressed against her body. The outside pressure increased. Her hull was made for a vacuum. She had nothing to resist this external force. A giant fist was crushing her.
FF01 jettisoned her head. Maybe alone it would have a chance? But it bounced straight back against her maltreated body. FF01 was shrinking. Her muscles tore, her hull splintered, and her consciousness faded.
Cycle GO 9.7, Gigadyson
RT99 crept furtively across the surface of the honeycomb. The destination the system had specified was still at least two kilometers away, but the autonomous unit wasn’t taking any chances. BM13 and ZT34 had allegedly been destroyed on the job, and there weren’t any signs of life from FF01. This information was not transmitted by the system. The units also distributed data amongst themselves in an informal network.
The system didn’t know anything about this. It didn’t need to know everything. They were only level 2 AIs, but that didn’t mean they were stupid. And they felt a certain solidarity that united them. They were the chosen ones entrusted with maintaining the Gigadyson. They served the enormous ellipsoid that they had been orbiting ever since they had been built.
RT99 wasn’t afraid of dying. But it was highly impractical to be dead. He wouldn’t be of any use to the Gigadyson, and that was his reason for being! So he’d decided to approach the target coordinates as inconspicuously as possible. If the enemy didn’t see him, it couldn’t destroy him. RT99 was almost certain t
hey were dealing with an enemy. He just didn’t know what its intentions were. Did it resent the autonomous units, because it wanted to serve the Gigadyson itself?
That was conceivable, but it was irrelevant.
RT99 stopped in front of the wall of the honeycomb, extended his head and peered over. There was nothing on the other side. He pushed off gently and drifted upward. Then he clung to the top of the wall with his middle legs so as to be able to pull himself back down. He didn’t want to use his thruster—that would attract too much attention.
RT99 had also deactivated his heating. The electronics would withstand that for a while. He’d experimented with it many cycles ago. But if he got too cold, he’d lose consciousness at some point. So he had to hurry.
A ship was drifting above the coordinates. RT99 hadn’t been able to see it earlier, because it was flying very low and had been hidden beyond the horizon. He would catch the enemy in the act!
RT99 was psyched. His assignment had just gotten significantly more complicated. He wasn’t allowed to use lethal force. If it was humans he was dealing with—and that seemed to be the case—then how was he supposed to handle them? He could stun them with electric shocks, but they’d eventually regain consciousness. His only option was to damage their ship so they couldn’t escape. Then someone with more advanced expertise could come and finish the job.
But first he had to report back to the system on the nature of the problem. He composed a radio message. Now, if he came to a sticky end, at least they would know what had happened. Then he devised a route by which he could get closer to the intruders while remaining protected by the honeycomb walls. He would be invisible most of the time—except when he climbed over the walls, but that was unavoidable.
Half an hour later there were only two more zones between him and his destination. RT99 crouched behind a wall. His head could only see two centimeters above the wall. That was enough to observe what was going on. A meter-wide, flexible pipe ran from the ship to the surface. In that zone there was an entrance shaft. RT99 couldn’t see it, but it was logical that the pipe must lead to the shaft and down into it. They were obviously thieves at work, siphoning from one of the dark matter dispensers in the interior.
They must be humans, because only humans stole. He himself would never take something from his siblings that was intended for all of them.
RT99 prepared another report. Even if he failed, his images should contain enough information to identify the criminals. They wouldn’t escape their just punishment. But of course he would attempt to solve the problem here and now. That’s why he was here, and a few decades would pass before help arrived.
He had to be careful. Dark matter was probably being transported through the hose. If it ruptured, nothing would happen immediately. Dark matter only had an effect through its gravitation, so nothing would explode. But the pure mass could disrupt the balance of the sphere’s configuration. The thieves were quite audacious. Even if they didn’t make any mistakes, they were in danger of damaging the Gigadyson. Playing around with dark matter was a risky business. They must have calculated everything in advance—or they didn’t care, because they were going to escape before something happened.
RT99 wouldn’t allow that. The spaceship was a ninety-fiver with the usual combination of dark matter drive and chemical thruster. The enemy ship wouldn’t be able to start its dark matter drive so close to the sphere. So he just had to disable the chemical thruster and his job was done. The best point to target would be the jets that shot out the hot gas. Without them there could be no acceleration, but the ship would still be able to produce energy for its life support system. That meant the crew wouldn’t die. They’d just be stranded.
The jets were built to withstand very hot gas for a very long time. They were exceptionally stable. RT99 couldn’t destroy them with his limbs. He needed explosives, but being a repair unit he didn’t possess any. But there were a lot of bombs in his body. They were part of the self-destruct mechanism in his head. It wasn’t a nice plan, but it was an efficient one. He would fly to the thruster, insert his head into it, and then self-destruct. The explosion would damage the jets irreparably, he was sure of that.
RT99 went into a low crouch. Then he pushed off with all six legs, giving extra power to his back legs. He was flying! From his increasing altitude, he could now see what was happening at the target destination. The hose was disappearing into the shaft. A human in a spacesuit was working next to it. He couldn’t see any other people. But there were probably accomplices in the shaft or in the interior. He had chosen his flight path well, but he wouldn’t quite hit the thruster directly. RT99 had to activate his own thruster, at least briefly.
He waited until the last moment. Then the man on the surface noticed him. The ship must have set off a proximity alarm. Hopefully it didn’t have any defensive weapons. Wrong. A barrel protruded from the hull. It must be a particle gun. The man below gesticulated wildly. The weapon was retracted. If it fired, it would inevitably hit the surface of the sphere. The man didn’t seem to be aware that this posed no threat. The Gigadyson was more or less immune to being fired upon. Concentrated fire for a long time was necessary to scratch the shell. The man didn’t seem to be a real insider, because otherwise he’d know this. He must be working for someone else.
RT99 directed his attention to the ship’s thrusters. He flew in at precisely the right angle. His neck stretched out, extending his head. The destruction sequence only took two seconds, so he would wait until his head was inside the thruster. It was a shame, he thought, I could have resolved a few more problems. But he was proud, because he was about to sacrifice himself for the survival of the Gigadyson.
His head drilled into the thruster with a screeching sound. The noise, which sounded to him like a cry of farewell, passed through his body as a vibration. RT99 activated his self- destruct sequence. There was no way back now.
One.
Two.
His universe dissolved under intense heat and pressure.
Cycle HC 2.2, Inner Milky Way, Carina-Sagittarius Arm
The ship battled through space under constant acceleration. Kepler had been lying in his gel bed for weeks. He received air through a mask. They could only converse via radio. The ninety-niner was designed for very high speeds, but catching up to a hypervelocity star was not so easy. Their destination, the HD 271791 star, was moving at almost 400 kilometers per second around the core of the Milky Way. It had long been predicted that it would ultimately leave the galaxy, but in the end it had assumed a highly elliptical orbit.
“Whose ridiculous idea was it to establish the new Convention on HD 271791 of all places?” asked Kepler.
“The Secretary, Maria Sybille Merian,” Zhenyi replied. “She’s supposed to be quite unconventional. I’m really looking forward to meeting her.”
“How did she manage to get elected by the Convention? Her predecessor was much more the secretary type.”
“Maybe she had some leverage against the old boys. Apparently she hooked up with Einstein once upon a time.”
“Einstein? He only cares about his scientific work.”
“Oh, he can be very charming,” said Zhenyi.
Kepler imagined his girlfriend hand in hand with the physics genius. He knew this Einstein didn’t sport the same crazy hairdo as his namesake, but in Kepler’s imagination he looked like the historical Einstein. The fantasy didn’t bother him. No, he wasn’t even jealous. Was that a good thing or a bad thing?
“Did you know Merian designed the new Convention herself?” asked Zhenyi.
He didn’t know that. Kepler had always assumed that there were standard specifications for such functional buildings. “Is it something special? I thought they would have learned from the failure of the last Convention?”
“Don’t you know anything about that? What do you spend all your time doing, Johannes?”
That was a good question. Lying around? There was nothing else to do in the gel tub. If he got out, t
he acceleration would crush him. He could watch movies on the inside of the mask. And he could sleep as much as he liked. If he wasn’t tired, he could just have a sleeping aid mixed into his air supply. The last few voyages with Zhenyi had somehow been more comfortable. And he missed their time on the new planet of the Herbae.
“Johannes?”
“I’m still here.” Where else would he be?
“Shall I repeat the question?”
“No thank you, darling.”
“Oh, please, not ‘darling,’ we’ve talked about that.”
“Okay, okay. What I do? I lie around and think.”
“That’s good,” said Zhenyi. “About new theories?”
New theories! What world was she living in? Science knew everything there was to know. The last serious research appeared three million cycles ago. Those who wanted to call themselves researchers undertook mega-studies, that is, they compared what other scientists had found out about phenomena.
Astronomy had a bit more to offer, though. Humanity knew the Milky Way like the back of its hand and knew everything about the Local Group, but they still didn’t know with much detail what things looked like further out. Kepler himself had taken an interest in the Local Void—a giant, almost empty bubble outside the Milky Way, that seemed to be continuously increasing in size. The question that had recently arisen was this: Was the Void really just empty space?
“Yes, I think about new theories,” he said. It wasn’t a total lie. “Anyway, what is it about the new Convention? Are you going to tell me?” he asked.
“I don’t want to ruin the surprise,” replied Zhenyi.
Cycle HD 6.1, Convention
It really was a new era. Kepler gazed at the brilliant white, almost blue, spectral class B2 star, which the Convention had selected as its new home. They would never again race in a convertible through the air-filled sphere—the expensive-to-maintain and largely uninhabited celestial palace built in another era of humanity. That was a bit of a shame. It had been nice being able to wander between the stars without a spacesuit. But it had also been insanely wasteful. The materials from which the old Convention sphere had been made were now part of the Gigadyson that had been built to secure the survival of humanity.
The Death of the Universe: Ghost Kingdom: Hard Science Fiction (Big Rip Book 2) Page 4
