Artificial Evolution

by Joseph R. Lallo

  First, a long, thin limb. It was spindly, almost like the leg of a deer, but with hair that was much more woolly. It also had far too many joints, at least three “knees” that alternated in their orientation to give an accordion fold to the leg. She squinted, wishing she’d bothered to wear her glasses, and realized that the end of the limb had what could charitably be called fingers—two prongs with hooflike tips that dug into the gravel as the leg came down. A second matching limb emerged next and dragged an egg-shaped body out after it. The body was covered in the same woolly fur and had no obvious head, mouth, or anything else besides bulges and thin, hairless seams. It was slightly elongated and had another pair of multijointed legs on the other side. Between the two pairs of longer legs extended a pair of shorter ones that didn’t touch the ground. If the creature hadn’t been moving, Michella would have had a difficult time telling which end was the front and which was the back.

  “What is it?” she asked, now taking feverish notes and for the first time cursing the lack of permission to take video.

  “That’s the question of the decade. We’ve conducted some tests, and they’ve given us some puzzling answers. Genetically, it is Bos mutus. The wild yak.”

  Michella’s face fell. “So it is just a mutant?”

  “No. The DNA is undifferentiated from the baseline. That, according to genetic testing, is a perfectly healthy purebred yak.”

  She eyed the monstrosity as it moved with a rolling, crooked gait toward its offering. “You and I have differing opinions on the meaning of the word healthy.”

  “It gets stranger. Around those hairless strips are signs of electrical stimulation and enzymatic action. The most similar phenomenon we can compare it to is a plasma-cauterizer, the sort emergency medics use. Not quite so refined, though. We’ve avoided invasive scans, since we still know so little about its biology and don’t know what might harm it, but we’ve been able to determine a few things. It has no traditional sensory organs besides its skin, and no internal organs. Instead there seems to be a node of electronic components, which we can only speculate is responsible for those biological operations.”

  “It has mechanical guts?” she said, eyebrow raised.

  He brought up a bizarre scan on one of the view screens. It looked like a blurry black silhouette of the creature with a bright, angular web of white lines centered in the body cavity and tapering outward in dimmer filaments. “This is a passive electromagnetic field extrapolation. In a purely organic creature this should be completely dark except for some minor features in the nervous system. That’s definitely a device inside of it. Of course, it turns out this scan wasn’t necessary to make that discovery. Take a look.”

  She turned back to the enclosure and peered down. The creature had reached the protein loaf and positioned itself over it.

  “You can get a better look from the side camera,” Dr. Dreyfus recommended, pointing to one of the larger screens.

  Michella looked to it just in time to see a cross-shaped seam open up on the creature’s underside. A mottled gray bundle of welds, tubes, wires, and lights dipped down out of the orifice and darted a pair of spidery manipulators downward. A searing lance of white light flared from the end of one manipulator and neatly sliced the loaf into slices, then cubes. The other leg speared each piece as it was portioned and delivered it to a cluster of smaller legs deeper in the cavity and nearly out of view. Everything happened with mechanical speed and efficiency, almost faster than the eye could detect. When the loaf was gone, the electronic features retracted into the cavity and the creature began to investigate the other raw materials. It did so by moving over the item in question, jutting its “torso” close to it, then moving to the next.

  “Carbon-fiber bundle rejected,” Dreyfus noted. “No interest in the balsa.” The electronics jutted out and seized one of the component bundles. “What was that, the transistor pack? It really ate that up. Interesting. It is interested in the passives as well, like always. It seems to favor the high-density capacitors. Oh! Look at it tear into the silica! I think we found a new treat for it.”

  “Now, what is happening here?” Michella asked.

  “It appears to be a highly selective feeding behavior. We haven’t been able to determine precisely what purpose is being served, but we’ve got our theories. The protein seems to be liquefied and applied to the organic components directly in order to repair and rejuvenate the tissue. It is likely that the electronic components are being consumed for the same purpose. If that’s the case, then it is possible we can learn about its mechanical makeup by analyzing its preferred resources. Much like the essential amino acids present in human staple foods, those items it chooses preferentially should indicate the building blocks of its body. So far, we’ve seen a great deal of interest in copper, germanium, and silica. We’ve seen it consume whole passives and small devices as well. The items are stored in a fleshy sack behind the main mechanical node. Ah. And it seems breakfast is over.” He addressed his assistants. “Wait until it is dormant again, then see if we can clean up the leftovers and identify relative quantities ingested.”

  Its belly full, the creature lumbered back into the den on its overly complicated legs and scooted inside. Michella looked down to her notes. The pages were scribbled with shorthand, words and concepts she didn’t understand forming twisted lines written without looking. She turned to a fresh page.

  “I’ll start with the obvious question, Doctor. Was this built by humans?”

  “We certainly considered the possibility, but evidence suggests it wasn’t. We analyzed the sensors installed by the planetary engineers during the first stages of terraforming. Initial surveys were extremely thorough and found no evidence of these creatures. Other than some meteor activity a few years ago, and the failure of one of the sensor arrays near the discovery site shortly after, we saw no notable interactions with the planet in the history available. The only time humans visited was during the events that brought the specimen to our attention. Meanwhile, this creature’s tissues appear to have been harvested from local wildlife no less than six weeks prior. There are remains of butchered yaks suggesting that this creature or others like it have been harvesting them for years.”

  “So they had to have arrived sometime between the survey and their discovery, with the only notable event being the meteors.”

  “We are working under the assumption that the creature was introduced then. Teams are investigating the craters to see if there is any evidence of similar creatures.”

  “What can you tell me about this cage?”

  “The enclosure simulates the temperature and environment of the discovery site…”

  “I apologize. We’ll go into that later, but right now I’m mostly concerned about the security and safety aspects. Should I be worried about catching an exotic disease from this thing?”

  “Heh, you have nothing to worry about. The enclosure is made from military-grade ballistic resistant polymer with titanium reinforcement. It is air- and watertight, and ventilation is entirely self-contained. Like our other high-security labs, the floor of the testing area is fitted with quick-release plating that leads fifteen meters down into a quadruple reinforced, blast-proof isolation chamber. In the event of an unsafe event, the floor plating is released, dropping the specimen into a chamber that could resist a nuclear blast.”

  “Impressive… I have to say, none of this is what I was expecting when I took this assignment.”

  “How so?”

  “Well, for every other quote-unquote alien discovery, the people broadcasting it are always absolutely certain they’ve got their hands on a genuine extraterrestrial.”

  “Then they weren’t scientists. Scientists operate on theories. The list of things a scientist is certain of is extremely short, and once a generation or so someone crosses one off and replaces it. As my physics professor used to say ‘Tomorrow’s sunrise isn’t guaranteed, it merely has a very strong precedent.’”

  “So, if you wer
e laying odds on this creature being of nonhuman origin?”

  “Too early to tell. My official stance is we have no strong evidence to suggest a specific human origin.”

  “Not exactly a grab-you-by-the-ears headline.”

  “That’s why we have a PR person. She handles the hyperbole. And if you’ll permit me, I’d like to say that you aren’t what I was expecting either.”

  “Oh?”

  “Most of the journalists I’ve dealt with spend most of their time talking. Rephrasing this and interjecting that.”

  “Then they weren’t journalists. Real journalism is done with the eyes and the ears first, not the mouth.”

  “You also didn’t ask about the rig,” he said, reaching down to tap the leg rests attached to his mobility apparatus.

  “Well, it obviously isn’t new, so I reasoned it wasn’t related to the story. The important facts come first, then the color. Unless you care to discuss it now.”

  “Not much to say, really. Klineway Syndrome. Degenerative spinal condition. We managed to stop the progress but not before it took my voluntary leg control and any hope of bringing it back without massive cybernetic surgery, and I’m not interested in that. I found the hover frame to be more compatible with this facility than a hover chair or wheelchair.”

  Michella nodded, jotting down this new fact. “We may revisit that, but first I’d like you to explain some of the terms you used earlier and summarize some of your other findings. Extraterrestrial or no, this is going to make for some fascinating reading.”

  Chapter 7

  Lex yawned and checked his slidepad. Still no message from Michella, and it was creeping toward noon, locally. Closer to dinnertime, according to his internal clock. His stomach agreed. Considering how skeptical Michella had been on the trip over, he would have expected her to be in and out. Then again, all she ever had to do was find someone with a good story to tell and she could burn through the hours. He’d taken the opportunity to explore the neighborhood.

  Gloria had a bustling urban center, but it was the only major city in the region, so the people lingered close to their jobs and homes. The ring around it that represented the newest additions to the city, mostly in the form of suburban developments hacked out of the jungle, was slow to attract any residents. The tightfisted network had sprung for the cheapest hotel in the area, which was a cozy one-story place well within this underpopulated fringe. It meant that regardless of where he went, Lex seemed to be the only patron. His mission to rent a car had been thwarted by the simple fact that the nearest rental place was in the city center and had no cars remaining. He was forced to settle for a hoverbike with a sidecar. The vehicle was a speedy little contraption that was great fun to ride, though it remained to be seen how Michella would react to it.

  Right now the bike was parked beside a little sidewalk cafe staffed by a single employee. The haggard old man was both waiter and cook, and was more than happy to have Lex show up, his first customer of the day.

  “What’ll it be, sir?” he asked.

  “Just an iced tea for me.” He glanced over the menu. “I’ll also have a side of dirty rice and refried beans for the pooch here. With an extra bowl big enough to mix them both together.”

  “Right away, sir. Have a seat anywhere and I’ll have it out shortly,” he said, his enthusiastic words failing to match his expression or speed.

  Lex found his way to a long table with chairs along one side. It marked the current edge of town, facing the vast, yet-to-be-developed expanse between Gloria and the laboratory. Without the tampering and tinkering of humanity, the surface of the planet trended toward marshy fields of white clay and standing water. Squee hopped up on the table and sat down, looking him evenly in the eye. A whine in his ear prompted him to swat at an insect.

  “Why?” he groaned. “Why would you start a brand new planet from scratch and decide to include mosquitoes. Whoever came up with that idea deserves a punch in the mouth.”

  The funk blinked twice and glanced down for a moment before looking him in the eye again. When she wasn’t going through one of her spastic phases or hanging about on someone’s shoulders, Squee had the odd tendency to plop herself down in a prominent position and observe the current speaker in a given conversation. It was one of the quirks she had that Solby didn’t, probably another side effect of her interactions with Ma. Lex couldn’t shake the feeling that she was perpetually on the verge of saying something. At this point, it wouldn’t surprise him if she did.

  “Your iced tea, sir. Sides will be out in a minute.” The proprietor placed down an icy glass.

  Lex took a sip and continued to stare at the nearly featureless horizon, trying to make out the laboratory that he knew was out there somewhere.

  “So, do they do proper iced tea here?” asked a man as he took a seat beside Lex to the right.

  “It’s pretty good I guess,” he said, turning to look. “It tastes a little—oh hell.”

  He palmed his face when he saw that of his visitor. It was Garotte.

  “They use limes instead of lemon? Now you see, that seems positively unwholesome to me,” Garotte said. “On moral grounds, not nutritional.”

  “What are you doing here?” Lex asked.

  “Keeping the good lady company.”

  “Hi, hon,” said Silo, taking a seat on the other side. “And hello to you, little sweetie!”

  Squee lavished Silo with affectionate kisses and rolled onto her back to receive tummy rubs, which were eagerly given.

  “I remember you! Do you remember me? Do you?” She tickled Squee’s chin. “Where’d the earrings go? And the nail polish?”

  “I’ll do a lot of things, but I’m not going to paint my pet’s nails. Now are you going to tell me why you’re here or not?”

  “Relax, my boy! Can’t old friends visit each other?”

  “We’re on a planet I’ve never been on, and I didn’t know I’d be here until a few days ago. Plus, I haven’t spoken to you since the Neo-Luddite fiasco. This isn’t a social call.”

  “We’re here trying to catch some more Neo-Luddites, Lex,” Silo said.

  “Must you spoil my fun?” Garotte said, glaring at Silo.

  “They’re here!?”

  “Not just yet, but I had a hunch they might show up. Now that you’re here, I’m utterly certain. You’re a lightning rod, my boy.”

  “It didn’t used to be that way…” he muttered, lowering his voice before continuing. “Listen. If those people are going to attack this planet, you need to let me know. Mitch is here.”

  “Easy, hon. Believe it or not, things are going pretty smoothly.” Silo shrugged. “As these things go.”

  “Tell me what’s going on.”

  “Beans, rice, and bowl,” said the restaurateur, setting down the items. “Anything for your friends?”

  Silo looked over her shoulder at the menu. “A grilled chicken sandwich with avocado. And throw in some sweet potato fries and a diet whatever to drink.”

  “Turkey club. Heavy on the bacon, I feel like celebrating. And an iced tea, with lemon, the way God intended,” Garotte said. He rummaged through his pocket and tossed the man a chip. “The meals are on me. Keep the change.”

  The old man fumbled to catch the chip, and when he saw the denomination, his eyes widened. “Won’t be a minute, high roller.” He hurried off to fill the order.

  “This place is a trifle public for the gritty details,” Garotte explained when the cook was out of earshot. “Besides, don’t you think we should wait until the lovely Ms. Modane arrives? I suspect she’ll be interested. You can rest assured, though, we’ve been doing our job in the last few months. The Neo-Luddites don’t pack nearly the punch they did before. If the cards are in our favor this time, this will be the last time they are organized or cohesive enough to attempt an operation of any magnitude for years. Possibly for good.”

  “That’s good. I’ve been having enough trouble with VectorCorp lately. The last thing I need is to have
to worry about terrorists.” Lex dumped the rice and beans into the spare bowl and mixed them together. The familiar sound was enough to coax Squee away from Silo’s fawning. She hopped down and sat obediently at his feet until the food was placed down.

  “So well behaved, too,” Silo cooed.

  “Don’t let her fool you. She knows how to get into trouble when she wants to. You should see what happens when she gets her paws on a slidepad.” He wiped his hands and turned to his visitors. “Will you at least tell me what role in this you expect me to play?”

  “Spectator, I imagine.”

  “You didn’t come to recruit me for anything?”

  “Not everything is about you, my boy.”

  “So am I supposed to believe that you just happened to stumble upon me?”

  “We’ve been keeping an eye on you. You’ve made a lot of enemies in a real hurry,” Silo said. “When we realized we’d be in the area, it seemed neighborly to stop by. Why’d you mix up the beans and rice?”

  “If I don’t, she only eats the beans, and Ma said she should eat some rice now and then. Can we stay on topic here?”

  “You’ll have your answers soon enough. You need to learn to relax. If you can’t enjoy the precious moments of calm, you’ll crack sooner than later,” Garotte said. “So, how has life been treating you?”

  “Not great. VectorCorp seems to have hired a Vice President in Charge of Making My Life Hell. In the space of a few days, I lost both of my on-the-books jobs thanks to them cracking down on the little stuff. They’re leaning on Michella’s bosses, too.”

  “Like I said, you make enemies like a champ,” Silo said, picking up Squee after the bowl was empty so she could resume her fondling.

  “If you find yourself in dire straits, we’ve certainly got a place for you on our crew. It pays well.”

  “Somehow I don’t think that would be an improvement in the whole ‘making enemies’ department.”

  “True, but at least the sort of enemies you make in our business come after you with guns and bombs instead of paperwork and bureaucracy. I think you’d find it refreshingly straightforward.”