And yet it must’ve also been an exciting time. Today everything seemed clear to Boris, sometimes too clear. They already knew many of Titan’s secrets. They had climbed its mountains, dived deep into its depths, and soared high into its heights. Their population was growing. Of course, there was some conflict now and then on a personal level, but no disagreements about their way of life. Snarushi and Wnutri, each one of them doing what they did best. Sometimes Boris wished he’d lived back during the old times.
“Boris? Why the delay? I am waiting for you,” the tank said, interrupting his thoughts.
The AI obviously had a built-in motivation loop for taking care of its visitors. It was somewhat annoying, but it was good for them. Life was easier when you had a purpose, even for an AI. Boris removed his wings, folded them together, and returned them to his backpack. Then he walked to the base of the cylinder. It reminded him of a dark, round eye. A circular ring of black painted metal held a ring of organic muscle that could open and close a circular membrane. Boris had to climb the small steps in front of the cylinder and then force himself through the membrane with his arms extended up over his head.
The muscle reacted to his approach. It opened to expose the membrane behind it, a wet and shiny round surface reminiscent of a giant iris, from which came tendrils of evaporating liquid. Boris felt the evaporating liquid with his hands and then pushed his hands and arms directly into the membrane. The material was gelatinous. It insulated the interior of the tank, and him too, once he was inside. Boris gave a push with his feet and legs, lifted off the steps, and slid into the tank. His lower body was drawn the rest of the way in by vacuum pressure before the ring at the bottom closed, and he came to a stop inside the tank containing the nutrient fluid.
The weightlessness was disorienting and sometimes even painful. The skin on his face had grown together with the outer skin, so he couldn’t actually cry, but it still seemed to Boris as if tears were running down his face. That always happened to him in the first few minutes in the tank, once he got used to the darkness.
Then came the moment when he would see stars. The engineers had ensured him that what he described was impossible. The tank wasn’t illuminated on the inside. But when he held his eyes open long enough, he began to notice thousands of tiny stars spread out all around him. He knew that he was inside a tube with a diameter of 120 centimeters, and yet it seemed to him as if he were floating freely in space. He often had to extend his arm and touch the wall so that the illusion didn’t become too overpowering.
He had reported these sensations to the doctors at the base. Other Snarushi had apparently reported similar experiences. The doctors thought that maybe the stars he was seeing were impacts of cosmic rays on his retina. But then, outside the tank, where this steel shell didn’t protect him, shouldn’t he have seen many more stars than when he was inside?
Was it the darkness that enabled him to see even the faintest flashes of light, or was his consciousness playing tricks on him? Yet the cause didn’t matter to him—it was a beautiful effect, and that was all that mattered. After the outer skin had been placed on him, he’d been afraid of having to climb into the tight cylindrical tanks. But then, when it had been Anna’s turn, he’d been excited to be able to tell her about his experience.
Boris closed his eyes and the stars disappeared. That effect spoke against the theory that cosmic rays were producing them. Somehow he had to be projecting the vision himself. His consciousness had to be producing the stars. Now he was utterly alone with himself. For an extrovert, it must’ve been torture, but the solitude restored his energy. The Snarushi probably had more introverts than the Wnutri, but there were still plenty of counterexamples, like Grigori, for one.
Boris pushed the thought of Grigori out of his mind. The stage in front of his mind’s eye emptied. The curtain closed and the lights in the hall switched off. The noise of the blood in his veins was the only remaining sound. He tuned it out. Around him was nothing, and he was completely himself.
“Boris? I am sorry, but I must wake you,” the tank said. “I have met all your needs and hope that you are satisfied with my service.”
“Thanks. Why did you wake me?”
“There is an urgent message from base. Shall I play it back for you?”
“Please.”
“I hate to disturb you during your beauty sleep,” Geralt’s voice said in his head, “but on behalf of the commander, I’m supposed to invite you to a meeting.”
A meeting at the request of the commander? What was that about? Did it have something to do with Anna? Had they started an internal investigation?
“The meeting is scheduled for 18:00 standard time at the base. You’ll find out all the pertinent information then.”
Great. Typical scientist. Geralt could’ve at least given him some hint or indication of what it was all about.
“How long have I been resting?” Boris asked.
“Two hours.”
Then it must already be almost 17:00. The base was nearly 50 kilometers away. He’d never make it in time. He’d have to push back the meeting.
“Please open a channel to base. I’ll never make it there by 18:00.”
“I am sorry, but I must contradict you, Boris,” the voice of the tank said. He could hear the pain in the tank’s voice. “The vehicle outside will certainly be able to get you to the meeting on time.”
They’d even sent a vehicle. Then it had to be important. Suddenly his heart started beating rapidly. Had something happened to Anna? Had she not made it? That would be one reason to bring him back quickly, and they hadn’t told him anything so as not to upset him.
But no, that was nonsense. That type of consideration would have been entirely out of character with standard protocol. The news would have been broken to him gently, but it would not have been ignored. Lying was unethical. Boris relaxed.
“Thanks again,” he said. “I felt very comfortable and at home inside you. Unfortunately, I’ve got to leave now.”
“You are welcome,” the tank said. “I will open my membrane now.”
He shivered when he stepped outside, something that had never happened to him before. A few steps in front of him was a Buistro, an open, lightweight vehicle on four metal wheels.
Grigori was sitting at the steering wheel and waved to him. “Come on. We’ve got to go.”
“You’re sure in a hurry, aren’t you?” Boris picked up his backpack, walked to the vehicle, climbed onto the seat behind Grigori, and buckled himself in. “Ready,” he said.
“Hold on tight. I hope you didn’t have a big breakfast.”
“Haha.” Very funny, he thought. The last time he ate anything had been more than 100 orbital periods ago. The outer skin provided his body with all the nutrients he needed.
Grigori stepped on the accelerator. The Buistro flew over the ice. Even though Boris was strapped in tightly, the vehicle still tossed him back and forth in his seat as it hit small pockets of different combinations of air properties as well as dips and bumps in the ground.
“I was afraid I’d have to pick you up somewhere in the mountains,” Grigori said. “That wouldn’t have been much fun.”
Fun. Oh well. Boris preferred a different kind of fun. On the right were the mountains where he had started his flight. They’d have to make a wide arc to go around them. That’d also bring them to the dune fields.
No, they were already in the dune fields. The Buistro was just sailing over the crest of a dune. The vehicle stabilized itself in the air. It was optimized for high-speed cruising, but Boris would have preferred flying with his own wings.
They landed with a loud crash. In comparison with the hills, the dunes had the advantage that there were no underground cavities, and thus there was no danger of breaking through the ground. Boris looked behind them. The vehicle was kicking up a big cloud of sand behind them. The sand consisted of ice crystals mixed with organic substances.
Boris leaned against Grigori’s back. The outer skin felt rigid, som
ething like stone. A driver had to concentrate very hard in this terrain. He was glad Grigori had more experience out here than he did. His uncle would get him back to base safely.
Grigori stopped in front of the bunker where the meeting was scheduled.
Boris climbed out of the Buistro. “Aren’t you coming?”
“I wasn’t invited.”
Grigori looked a little disappointed, if he could read anything from his uncle’s face. After all, he was much more experienced than Boris. But that probably also meant that no investigations had been started against him.
The bunker didn’t look like a bunker from the outside. Instead it looked something like a big tent. In the back, however, was an underground structure that was used by the Wnutri. Earlier, before the genetic splitting, this was where the base’s command center was located. Now the location changed depending on whether the base was being led by a Wnutri or a Snarushi.
Boris entered the building through a narrow door, which opened into a dimly lit hallway more than twice a person’s height. Door after door led off from the hallway. Behind these doors were meeting rooms where small groups could work together. Under the tent-like ceiling, the rooms looked something like small huts that had all been built very close together. Nobody had told him exactly where he was supposed to go, but he assumed that his destination was the auditorium. Anything important took place there.
At the end of the hallway he came to a door that stretched up to the ceiling. He opened it and entered an auditorium that was lit almost festively. This was where they had celebrated the New Year a few orbital periods ago, everyone all together. The barriers, which now ran straight from wall to wall again, had been arranged at the time by a complicated process into a wild labyrinth pattern through the room, to enable the Wnutri and Snarushi to visit with each other more easily.
But today was all about business. Geraldine, the commander, walked back and forth on the side filled with breathable air. She had her left arm across her body supporting her bent right elbow. Her head was resting on her right hand, and she appeared to be deep in thought. Geralt was sitting in a corner, staring off into space, probably not wanting to disturb her. There was also another young Wnutri in the room, who was studying the back of her hand very intensely.
Boris walked a little more loudly. He always forgot that he was, for all practical purposes, silent when he walked barefoot over a cement floor.
Geraldine turned around and smiled. “I’m so happy that it worked,” she said.
She walked forward up to the barrier and pushed her hand through the material. It stretched around her hand so that Boris could shake it. He thought that he could almost even feel her warmth, but that was physically impossible. Geraldine was a well-liked commander. She treated everyone in a motherly way, but could also be very assertive when necessary. That’s one reason she’d been reelected three times.
Geralt and the young woman also came up to the barrier. “Privyet, Boris,” Geralt said.
The young woman introduced herself. “My name’s Jenna Tamarastir.”
Her hand was amazingly narrow and her fingers long, but she had a firm handshake. Tamarastir, then her mother’s name must’ve been Tamara. There had never been a Tamara at this base, as far as he could remember.
“Jenna is the astronomer at the north pole base,” Geraldine explained. “She’s made an alarming discovery.”
Geraldine was never one to waste time with chit chat. Boris looked at her, wondering what an astronomical discovery had to do with him.
“Please, Jenna,” Geraldine said.
“My area of interest is asteroids in general, and the asteroid belt in particular,” the young Wnutri said. “Saturn provides us with a certain amount of protection, but the impact of an asteroid on Titan would be catastrophic, so we’ve got to be prepared.”
“Of course,” Boris said. “Is there a danger of that now?” Strangely, he felt no anxiety at the thought. The idea that an asteroid would hit Titan was so... inconceivable.
“No, we wouldn’t be conversing here quite so calmly if that were the case,” Geraldine said.
But what then? Boris wanted to ask, but he held back the question. They had few options to counter an asteroid headed straight toward their moon. They would probably have to flee.
“Something strange has happened in the asteroid belt,” Jenna said. “An asteroid, named (1288) Santa in Earth’s nomenclature, left its orbit for no identifiable reason.”
“What does that mean?” he asked.
“It’s a mystery,” Jenna answered. “One that we’ve yet to solve. Asteroids shouldn’t just leave their orbits. And if that happens, we’ve got to find out the cause—not that this might ever happen again, but we’ve got to be prepared for any potential danger.”
The young woman looked as if she had only recently come of age, but she obviously knew what she was talking about.
“Doesn’t anyone have any idea what might’ve caused the change in orbit?” Geralt asked.
“We assume it must’ve been a natural cause,” Jenna explained. “Something specific to the asteroid itself.”
“Is anything more known about the asteroid, then?”
“No, Geralt. It has a diameter of about thirty-one kilometers, and it’s never attracted any special attention until now.”
“So, how do you plan on getting to the bottom of this strange behavior?” Boris asked. He still had no idea why he was being included in any of this.
Jenna didn’t answer and instead turned to look at Geraldine.
“We’re going to fly there,” the commander said quietly. “I know that flying is forbidden, but we consider it absolutely necessary, and that’s why we discussed it at the CoC and decided to go forward with this plan.”
The CoC was the Commission of Commanders, the elected government of Titan. Boris was shocked. Had the commanders voted to break one of the three big taboos? The prohibitions had always worked well for them. And now they were going to violate one of them all because some chunk of rock had changed its orbit in the solar system? Or was there more that he didn’t know yet?
“I’m ordering all of you right now to keep this plan strictly among us,” Geraldine said vehemently. “At some point we will have to talk about the taboos more, especially if they start slowing down our progress. But right now, this is only a single, time-limited exception.”
“But we don’t even have a spaceship, do we?” Boris interjected. Or had the commanders already allowed a ship to be developed? Such secrecy would shake his trust in their government. No wonder that Geraldine wanted to keep this all secret.
Again, Geraldine spoke barely above a whisper. “Yes, we do. The Ark, the ship that the founders used.”
The legendary ship was supposed to have been destroyed during the landing. That was part of the entire foundational mythology of the Titan colony.
“Nonsense,” Boris said.
“That’s interesting,” Geralt said.
Jenna remained quiet. Apparently, she already knew.
“Where is it?” Boris asked.
“That’s the problem,” Geraldine said. “We found some approximate coordinates in the archives, but we’d probably have to dig it out first. The ship’s been there for a very long time! Everything must happen as inconspicuously as possible. That’s why we thought of you and Geralt. You two already worked together on the Dragonfly. Now we want you to excavate another old probe—this time officially.”
“I have to admit that doesn’t sound uninteresting. I’ll have to think about it,” Boris said.
That was total understatement. This was exhilarating. He would have agreed immediately, but then he wouldn’t have been able to learn what the catch was—and there had to be a catch, somehow. He was not one of the well-known Titanians. They must’ve selected him for some reason. Maybe because nobody would notice his absence?
“Boris! No, you can’t be serious,” Geralt said. “This is our chance! I’m in, no matter what. But don’t
listen to what Boris just said. I know him. He craves adventure.”
Man, Geralt, couldn’t you shut up for once? Who asked you, anyway? he almost blurted. Instead he said, “How did the CoC decide to ask me, of all people? Did I do something that brought me to your attention?”
“We knew about Geralt because he’s always submitting requests to the Research Commission for expeditions to old pieces of junk,” Jenna said, “and that would provide us the perfect cover. And I’m a member of the RC, too.”
So young, and already a member of a commission. The RC made decisions about research topics that went beyond the budget of a single base. But, she’s not answering my question.
“Junk? Please, I’m only interested in important articles from history,” Geralt said.
“Terrestrial history,” Jenna said. “We’ve moved far beyond those old stories. What do we need those old probes for? Humankind only brought misery and suffering to its planet and eventually destroyed it.”
“And we’re headed down the same path here on Titan,” Boris said. “Or have none of you noticed the increasing frequency of thunderstorms?”
“This is not the right time or place for fighting,” Geraldine interjected. “The researchers are already well aware of the warming. And maybe we can still learn something useful from the past. Now, do you want to know how we chose you, Boris Mariasson? The answer is quite simple. Geralt recommended you when we asked him to name an energetic, experienced expedition leader who had a good understanding of terrestrial artifacts.”
“Geralt? Am I supposed to have a good understanding of his junk? How in the world did you come to think that?”
“I watched how you interacted with the Dragonfly. You didn’t know any Old English, and yet you were immediately able to get the thing to fly.”
“That was pure luck.”
“Some might call it luck. Others, intuition.”
“Well, okay, but I’ve got one condition,” Boris said.
Geraldine stepped very close to the barrier until it touched her face. It looked as if she wanted to come over to his side and give him a real thrashing. “You’re being asked to dig up the legendary ship of the founders, and you have conditions?”
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