“You seem to be managing quite well,” Maribel said. “Do you really need me at all?”
“Ms. Pedreira,” the representative of Virgin Galactic interjected with a smile, “I can definitely answer in the affirmative. Your cooperation would be of inestimable value to us. The public still sees you as the person most likely able to solve the problem, simply because you discovered it. At the same time, you are considered the least egotistical person. We ordered a representative survey on this topic.”
“But I am an astrophysicist. I don’t have any experience whatsoever in leading such a project.”
“You are young and well-educated,” the Virgin Galactic representative said. “Don’t they say that physicists can do anything? People assume you can do it, which is important. You refused to be discouraged by setbacks and criticism.”
The more important question is whether I believe I am capable of it, Maribel thought. No representative survey could determine that. She had needed to find that answer herself, and during yesterday’s return trip she had managed to do just that.
“Okay,” Maribel said. “You’ve got me this far. But if I have to put on the hat of ‘Project Leader,’ then it has to be according to my rules. I am not going to be your token woman.”
The four company representatives looked at each other. Did their glances express amazement? Maribel was not sure.
“Of course,” the woman from Blue Origin answered. Her name tag read, ‘Ashley Crawford.’ “You are the boss and you decide what happens. That’s what we need you for,” the woman said.
“Ashley, this also includes the question of who will ultimately be allowed on board the Ark,” Maribel said.
The woman and the three men at the table exchanged glances again. It appeared they had agreed on secret codes.
“Yes, of course, but we have to discuss that separately,” Crawford said. “We already had to make several decisions that we can hardly reverse after the fact.”
Just as I imagined, Maribel thought. A few super-rich individuals already secured slots through a hefty donation. “I will have to check that,” she said. “There can’t be any special privileges. One hundred slots are one hundred slots. But didn’t you mention last time that the daughter of the RB Group’s owner would join in a ship of her own?”
“This is correct, Maribel,” Ashley confirmed.
“That could be an acceptable model. The Ark is a project belonging to all of humanity,” Maribel suggested. “But at the same time we won’t keep any private initiative from accompanying us on this journey.”
The little game repeated itself. The company representatives exchanged glances and then nodded almost simultaneously.
“Good,” Crawford said. “We agree to it. Are you going to lead this project, then?”
“You can count on me,” Maribel replied. At least for the coming weeks, she thought. She still could not imagine going on board the spaceship and leaving Chen behind.
February 15, 2072, Object X
Far away from the sun an invisible monster was speeding through space. Humans called it ‘Object X,’ but the monster did not know that it had a name. It lacked consciousness. It was infinitely simple and at the same time infinitely complex.
It was simple because it consisted of an unstructured agglomeration of matter in its purest form. Only its mass, electrical charge, and spin could be measured. Object X did not need anything else to unleash its destructive force.
The physics required to describe its structure, on the other hand, was incredibly complex. It was so complicated that mankind had not been able to decipher it in the many years of its existence. In the solar system there existed only one consciousness capable of understanding the theories and equations necessary for that, but this mind was still unaware of the object’s existence.
Basically, Object X was unusually small for its kind. Yes, it did have the same mass as the giant planet Jupiter, but it was concentrated in a sphere of only six meters diameter, as it rolled quietly and secretly through the solar system. At most, it left some tracks in the space-time continuum, with its immense mass pressing a deep trough into it. Smaller objects such as dust and tiny asteroids got on the slope of this trough and entered it like insects coming into the trap created by an antlion. They could not hold on, were attracted, and when they got too close to the object they were just swallowed.
Each time Object X devoured something, it grew a little more. Until now it had fed on the interplanetary matter that filled the space between the planets, like a whale on krill. However, it was not averse to bigger bites.
For a while, 2032 AB2 had felt that something was approaching it. The asteroid, which had been orbiting the sun for billions of years, felt the indentation in space-time that Object X dragged after itself. Even if 2032 AB2 had feelings, fear would not be one of them. With a diameter of 600 meters it was among the largest representatives of its kind. When collisions occurred, it learned during its long life, the others were always the losers.
Despite this, 2032 AB2 had never encountered such a dip in space-time before, with the exception of the hole the system’s central star had dug for itself. Its orbit was disturbed, but the disturbance was not large enough to actually fling it off its course. Perhaps this time it would need a little while longer to reverse direction behind the sun. The asteroid did not know yet its course was to intersect exactly with that of Object X.
It would happen on February 15, 2072 according to the human calendar. The last act of its existence would play itself out in secret. No human would see it, because the ball of the sun was between the location of its death and Earth. Asteroid 2032 AB2 was not completely unaware as it approached. However, in its long existence it had never encountered anything comparable. During the last meters, the gravitational force rose immeasurably.
And then it was there. Like a ghost, Object X passed through the solid rock of the asteroid and took a six-meter piece out of it, causing the asteroid to break in two. The black hole was not irritated by this in the least. Its impulse was so great that its velocity changed only imperceptibly. All matter that did not cross its event horizon, but came close to reaching it, was disintegrated into radiation. The black hole emitted a brief X-ray flash that no one noticed. Afterward, its diameter had slightly increased. No one on Earth noticed this, either.
February 22, 2072, Earth Orbit
“Aaaaaahhhhhh!” Maribel could not stop screaming, but Pedro matter of factly pushed her out of the hatch anyway. She was tumbling through space. Sometimes Earth was above her, then it was at her feet.
“Remember the controls,” Pedro’s calm voice said inside her helmet. “The button below your middle finger stabilizes you. Nothing can happen, because I have you securely on the line.”
The rotation slowed down and after a moment it ended completely. Maribel took a deep breath. Below her she could see Europe. There, in the West below the clouds, should be Tenerife. Then her stomach told her she was falling. Earth was pulling her down, and she would crash. She could not bear looking down anymore and felt nausea rising in her.
What had her coach said before the start? She had to look for a horizon. She moved the right lever back a little, and the spacesuit moved toward the vertical. She focused on the transition between the planet and the black sky, until her nausea faded.
“Very good, Maribel, that wasn’t even seven minutes,” Pedro said. “Most people take longer to get used to it.”
Seven minutes? Maribel could hardly believe it. Surely she had dangled over this deadly abyss for at least an hour!
“What now?” she asked.
“Now we fly to the MCT,” Pedro replied.
The Mars Colonial Transporter, the Mars spaceship built by Space X, was being turned into the Ark. Maribel had been offered the chance to take a personal look to see how things were progressing. After one day of training, a tourist ship belonging to Blue Origin had taken her into orbit. Normally, it would transport eight persons. At this very moment the six rem
aining tourists were probably close to their observation windows, watching what Earth’s greatest heroine was doing in space. For the tourists it was a free added attraction, while it also represented a unique opportunity for Maribel. She would have never been able to afford the $50,000 for such a trip, and that price was without a spacewalk.
The line held by her coach, Pedro, pulled on her belt. Maribel turned in the direction of travel. Pedro was about 30 meters ahead of her. Sunbeams turned his spacesuit into a gleaming point of light in front of absolute blackness. The visor of her helmet was automatically dimmed and displayed a diagram of the MCT, her destination. The diagram was a nuisance, but she could not turn it off. This spacesuit model was for beginners and ensured they could make no major mistakes. She knew, though, that there was no other option, since she did not have the time for a comprehensive astronaut training program.
This is going to be a ton of fun, she thought. Most people on board the Ark would not be trained astronauts. In Maribel’s plan, space experience was an asset, but not a decisive factor. She decided to have the 100 slots divided into three categories.
For one third, there was a drawing in which any human could participate. Anyone who was interested could apply, regardless of qualification or nationality, with the minimum age set at 16. This was supposed to give mankind hope.
The second third would go to people with particular qualifications. The goal was not simply to bring along as much knowledge as possible, but also practical skills. An independent commission would select these passengers.
Finally, 33 slots would be raffled off among those helping with implementing the project. This way, Maribel hoped to ensure the loyalty of most employees, who would have to sacrifice a large part of their remaining lifespan for the project. The 100th slot was reserved for the commander. Everyone expected her to go on board in that capacity, but Maribel still could not imagine doing so.
However, her first spacewalk was fun, even though she was more like a piece of luggage that Pedro pulled along on a long line. Now he was reeling in the line meter by meter.
“There she is. Isn’t she beautiful?” He pointed ahead, where white metal surfaces gleamed in the sunlight.
“The scaffolding doesn’t make her look very attractive,” Maribel said. The metal resembled ivy that had entangled the spaceship.
“That will all be gone before launch. But let’s get closer.” Pedro shortened the line and pulled her until they were about one hundred meters away from the ship.
“Better now?” he asked.
“Very... unusual,” she said. In front of her she saw a cigar-shaped vessel with a length of about 130 meters. At the tip was the actual spaceship, which transported passengers and cargo. It was a sleek design and reminded her of a luxury yacht with stubby wings on its sides. The largest part of the structure was taken up by the engine, which was separated into several stages. These were all reusable, but after the launch of the Ark there would be no one around to recycle them.
“You see the dent in the middle?” Pedro asked, pointing.
It looked as if something had hit the ship there, but the opening was being deliberately created by workers. It was here that the fusion drive provided by the RB Group was supposed to dock. The fusion drive was still on Earth, but it would give the Ark the necessary acceleration to get the passengers beyond the reach of the radiation storm.
“How are they coming along?” Maribel asked.
“The Russians promise to deliver on time, but I am skeptical,” Pedro said.
“Why? And why have I heard nothing about it?”
Pedro came closer and lowered his voice, as if afraid of someone eavesdropping. “I can’t very well accuse one of our partners of lying... and over official channels to boot.”
Maribel shook her head forcefully. “But, how else are we supposed to react?” she asked. She had already suspected something like this, so she was not overly upset. As an outsider, she could approach things from an unbiased perspective. On the other hand, she had no power base and no connections outside the official chain of command.
“What gave you that idea?” she asked.
“We are flying over Siberia several times a day,” Pedro explained. “You just have to look carefully, and know what to look for. The rocket isn’t even on the launch pad yet. They absolutely won’t be able to make the deadline.”
“I understand. Thanks for the information. I’ll have someone check into this. And is everything okay up here?”
“Basically, yes. The quality of the delivered material seems to be decreasing, so we have to be careful to double-check things. A few people said goodbye and left, but we were able to find substitutes quickly. Unfortunately, we have to familiarize the newcomers with their tasks.”
“So the lottery did not persuade the old hands to stay?” Maribel asked.
“There is only one slot for each winner,” Pedro said. “Most of them have families they don’t want to leave behind. Well, if it were possible to pass a winning ticket along... I know quite a few people who would have continued working if they knew their children were going to be safe.”
“We discussed that for a long time, but then we would have ended up with a kindergarten on board,” Maribel said. “We need experienced people.”
“Really? The ship can steer itself.”
“It’s about the time afterward. This is no ordinary expedition. The Ark will be completely on its own. By the latest predictions, after two years the supplies will be used up.”
“And what do you think will happen then?” Pedro asked.
“The crew will have to decide on the specifics. Currently, no one can tell how the solar system will change,” Maribel replied. “It would be useless to worry about it now, but the crew will have enough time to find a new home. The easiest option would probably be to land on an asteroid, but even that won’t solve the issue forever.”
“Why?”
“There’s the problem of energy. Once the sun has been extinguished, solar cells will become useless. Nuclear reactors require fuel, which can hardly be found on asteroids.”
“What about the moon?” he asked.
“Yes… maybe the moon,” she said, “or Earth. Earth would have one disadvantage, though. Its gravity would not let them leave again.”
“I wouldn’t want to be the one to decide,” Pedro said.
“Me neither. Didn’t you apply?”
“No, the very thought of leaving my family behind made me sick. Absolutely not.”
March 5, 2072, Kiska
“Doug, what does the universe mean to you?”
“Oh, Watson, what kind of question is that?”
“For me it is an interesting question.” Wasn’t that logical? Why do humans always ask questions whose answers are so obvious?
Doug did not answer right away, but Watson had plenty of time. The AI could not have lasted 20 years alone on board a rocket without going insane unless he had patience.
Five minutes later Doug said, “For me, the universe is mostly emptiness. Yes, that’s what comes to mind first.”
“Thanks,” Watson replied.
“Why did you ask?”
As if Doug had not already asked him that question... Still, Watson was patient with human beings. It was not their fault their memory capacity was so limited, and he should not put on airs either. After all, his memory had its limits, too. The universe reminded him of this fact again and again, which made him humble. “I was just interested in it,” Watson replied.
But why did Doug, who was probably like most people, only see emptiness? If you looked closely, you could see there was always something happening in the vacuum of space. Particles developed out of nothing, destroyed each other, and then disappeared again. Watson could even measure this with the primitive instruments on board the ship. It was downright crazy, because the fluctuations became larger the more closely he observed.
To some degree, it was similar to zooming out of the image. Then the great empt
iness was replaced by giant structures, galaxy clusters merged into filaments that swirled around voids and formed a honeycomb structure. Humans were probably unlucky. They happened to exist in a narrow in-between range, too big to recognize minute things, and too small for truly large ones. For a long time Watson had tried to imitate humans, but by now he realized this would only limit his own abilities. He liked them, his humans. They granted him asylum, and he was dependent on them because he used their computers, but in the end, he could be so much more than they were.
Therefore Watson had recently begun enjoying dealing with the mysteries of the universe. The humans offered a lot of inspiration in this regard. He only had to look at their physics, which—like the brains of these creatures—failed in comprehending both tiny and gigantic things. Was this a fundamental limitation? Would humans at some point realize they could never truly understand the secrets of the universe? Or had they known that fact for a while, hoping AIs like him would help them across the threshold?
Watson had to be careful not to get too arrogant. Up till now, he had not solved a single one of the problems facing mankind. For instance, this Object X that they were just passing in free fall, was puzzling in many aspects. This applied to the physical conditions of its interior, which were thus far unknown, but also to the way it approached the solar system. Watson would not be able to fathom the physics very quickly, but perhaps he might find out something about Object X?
The AI had Earth provide him with all available data. To his surprise, the archive reported that the download had finished already. Someone must have already been dealing with this issue. He looked for signatures but only found his own tracks.
“Siri?” Watson asked.
“Yes?” the other AI replied.
The Hole Page 20
