“You can’t be serious, Marchenko,” Erik said.
“It was not my decision.”
“Then RB has once again violated international treaties.”
“No, the RB variant abides by the treaties, but it differs from what is the international custom.”
“I don’t understand this,” Erik said.
“The treaties state,” explained Marchenko, “that the nanofabricators must not pose a threat to the environment, and that humans must be able to control them at all times.”
“And that’s why they are supposed to only work in a liquid,” Nuria interrupted him.
“That is one option. Another is that the nanofabricators destroy themselves when they receive a certain signal sequence. That is how RB abides by the treaty.”
Neither Nuria nor Erik answered. It was evident to Marchenko that he had not persuaded them—because the RB variant was unquestionably more dangerous. Human beings could intervene, but only if they noticed that the nanomachines were running amok.
Nuria turned around and returned to operating the analyzer. “I will make cell cultures from both astronauts’ blood,” she explained. “Before we inject Peter and Maria with the serum, I want to make sure it will work the way we want it to.”
“Thank you, Nuria,” Marchenko said. “That’s what I wanted to suggest, too.”
She made no reply.
Then the AI said, “Erik, are you interested in taking a closer look at the being’s shell in the meantime? If you go out through the other airlock, you will come to the wall area we unearthed for our research purposes.”
June 20, 2079, Venusian Surface
Erik climbed slowly up the ramp. Marchenko had given them more information about the wall that his robots had uncovered. He had almost seemed enthusiastic. Was it because the AI had a special rapport with extraterrestrial life? Erik only vaguely remembered the story from his time in training, not being fond of studying history. They had covered the milestones of space travel, which of course included the Enceladus expedition from almost 30 years ago.
Erik brushed the wall with his fingers. He felt the small indented lines that formed pentagons. He and Nuria had already found something similar soon after they landed. But his enthusiasm for the discovery was gone. The alien cells had entered the bodies of two humans as parasites, and if they could not find an antidote, both hosts were going to die.
He looked at the ancient patterns. He could not be angry with the parasites. Like himself, they were just trying to survive. Still, Nuria’s serum would have to kill the parasites if Peter and Maria were to survive. But, what if extraterrestrials landed on Earth and developed an allergy to humans? Would he sympathize with the strangers, if they solved their problem by destroying humanity? Of course not. And here, humans were the aliens who had invaded a foreign habitat.
It was just after midnight Moscow time. He looked at the sky. The sun was barely visible as it slowly made its way to the horizon. When it passed that line, night would fall, but that did not bother him much. What was worse was that the spaceship would soon be disappearing beyond the horizon. RB had begun processing Nuria’s data in their system on Earth hours ago. Even for a quantum computer, the task was not easy to solve. What kind of structure and composition must an antibody have in order to detect and recognize the foreign cells and render them harmless?
An AI needed to continually invent new variations and then test them against the parasites in extensive simulations. They needed to be sure—it was essential that not a single parasitic organism be left behind. They must avoid causing a catastrophic pandemic on Earth.
“Spaceship to ground crew,” Ethan radioed. “Any news?”
“We’re still awaiting the results,” Erik replied.
“Okay. I will do what I can to give you some extra time. I’ll look for a current that doesn’t move so rapidly, but I can’t just stop.”
“I know, Ethan. How many hours do we have left?”
“Five. No more.”
Erik entered the airlock and closed the exterior hatch. Hot gas at a temperature of 900 degrees flowed into the chamber. This lasted only a few minutes and didn’t bother him, its purpose being to denature the sulfur compounds in the alien cells. It ensured that he didn’t bring any additional parasites into the base. Marchenko had purposefully tinkered with the airlock software. However, the interior rooms were still contaminated. If they managed to save Maria and Peter, they needed to make sure prior to departure that they weren’t taking even a single pathogen with them.
He raised his arms so that the gas could work on his AV’s whole body.
“RB sent us a design,” Nuria reported via radio.
Her voice sounded strained. She evidently knew, even better than he did, that a design that was effective in simulations might not work the same in the real world.
“The nanofabricators—”
“—are already at work,” Nuria interrupted, finishing his thought
“How—”
“Three hours.”
They understood each other completely. Three hours. That would be cutting it a little close, but then they still would have about two hours left. The hot gas was suctioned off again. Oxygen-rich air flowed into the airlock, then the inner door opened.
“I’m adding the antibodies to the cell cultures now,” Nuria explained.
“How will you know that it’s working?” Erik asked.
“First of all, they should survive. And if I then add sulfur to the nutrient fluid, nothing should change. No excessive growth, but instead, we’ll witness a tendency to shrink.”
Erik looked at Nuria, who was very focused and working on a sample within the analyzer. The fact that the parasites were so dangerous did not seem to scare her. Then he remembered that he and Nuria weren’t really there.
“First step successful,” Nuria said.
He put a hand on her shoulder, but she shook it off.
“It’s too early to celebrate,” she said.
She once again did something inside the machine. She propped herself up and stared into the glass window, then spun around and stamped her foot.
Dammit. He did not need her to speak. The foot stomp said enough.
“Second step not successful. The sulfur is stimulating cell growth.”
“I need the data,” Marchenko said.
Erik looked at the time display and saw they had an hour and a half left. It was too late. If they waited another three hours, no one would be there to inject Peter and Maria with the remedy.
Nuria bent over, almost as if she had to vomit. But an AV couldn’t do that. “Wait,” she said, “I’ll scan it.” She pressed a few buttons and a blue light appeared. “That’s for you, Marchenko,” Nuria said. “RB should hurry this time.”
“I’m already transferring the data to Earth,” Marchenko said. “ I can see that we are on the right path. The number of parasites initially decreased, but then rose again.”
“The things resisted,” Nuria noted. “They changed. We must prevent that. The antibodies have to strike everywhere at the same time. RB has to place more emphasis on the reaction speed in the simulations.”
“Yes, I will send them your comments as well,” Marchenko said.
“We still have a huge problem,” Erik said.
“I know. The connection to the spaceship,” Marchenko said. “I don’t think we will have new antibodies in an hour and a half.”
“What about the household robot?” Erik asked.
“It is taking too long to repair Katarina.”
“Can’t you materialize out of the computer, Marchenko?”
“The technology is not that advanced yet. However, there is a way we can perhaps save Peter and Maria.” The AI hesitated. “But I’m sure you won’t like it.”
“Uh-oh, you want to take over our AVs—NASA will be immeasurably furious about that! It’s their latest technology, and we’ll be revealing all its secrets to the RB Group,” Erik remarked.
&nb
sp; “Does this mean you’re against it? Please, Erik? Please, Nuria? This is about the lives of two people, not about politics.”
“I’m not saying that,” Erik said. “The RB Group should commit itself to immediately and publicly forego the use of nanofabricators that are not in a truly-compliant liquid suspension. In return, we’ll give you access to the AVs.”
The NASA bosses would grind their teeth over this deal, Erik knew, but they would not kick him out for it—he hoped. RB’s lax interpretation of nanomachine laws was a considerable threat that might be thwarted by forcing RB to fully comply with the spirit of the international agreements regarding nanos.
“Good idea, Erik,” Nuria said.
“Valentina might bite the nearest tabletop, but she’ll agree,” Marchenko said. “It’s a diplomatic masterpiece, I must add. Valentina, however, will call it blackmail, so I would advise you to avoid travel to Russia for as long as she’s alive, Erik.”
“I have no intention of ever going there.”
“RB’s new antibody design is already here,” Nuria called out.
Well, that was quick! Erik thought. Simulation and transmission took just 80 minutes. The AI must already be well trained to solve the problem. The next designs would probably be ready even more quickly.
But Maria and Peter needed more than that. The nanofabricators could only now start their work. He and Nuria would not be around to see the completion of the serum with the antibodies.
“Marchenko, it’s time to transfer the logs to you.”
“Thank you, you two.”
Erik enabled external access to his AV. As soon as he relinquished control, Marchenko would be able to take over the autonomous unit via radio. He wondered how it must feel to be in two bodies at the same time. He had always wanted to ask Nuria to give him control for a moment. Now Marchenko would be the first to try this out.
Erik imagined thousands of AVs, all controlled by Marchenko. That would be an army! They would all know each other’s thoughts. They could rely on each other entirely. Fortunately, AVs were so expensive that they were not yet of interest to the military.
Nuria was standing in front of him. “Erik? We have to leave.” The phrase she used sounded funny, as if they had to leave the base. But the AVs would remain there.
“Will we meet again?” Erik asked.
“I don’t know,” Marchenko answered. “I’m not dependent on our ship, the Strelka. Maybe when everyone’s left I’ll clean up a bit here. But you could ask RB if the Strelka could take you along. That would enable you to return to Earth much earlier. There is enough space.”
“We’ll think about that when Maria and Peter are well again,” Nuria said.
“The offer stands, even if the attempt fails. Especially in such a case. They might recover, but still carry around a parasitic burden. Then I’d have to make sure they stay here on Venus forever.”
“I would not envy you having to undertake such a task, Marchenko,” Erik said. “Let’s hope that won’t be necessary.”
“Good luck and all the best!” Nuria said.
Erik awoke on his couch aboard the spaceship. He was sweaty, the cabin swinging in a storm.
“Good luck, Marchenko,” he murmured.
June 20, 2079, Venus Base
The AV straightened up, staggered, and steadied itself again. It carefully took its first steps and raised its arms. Marchenko had taken control and was practicing handling the machines. He needed to master control of the AVs up to the level of fine motor skills. He needed to do this before the manufacture of the serum by the nanofabricators—otherwise he would not be able to inject the serum. Marchenko recalled his former life. He had administered so many injections that he could have done it in his sleep.
“Well done!” he said aloud to himself. The AV had managed to draw water up into a syringe. It was strange to hear one’s voice over the microphones in the walls. The speech synthesis was flawless. It was based on the self-image of his own voice. As a result, the AVs didn’t speak like Erik and Nuria, but like Marchenko.
The AI improved his mastery over the AV with each passing minute. Ten minutes later, Marchenko had reached a level of mastery that gave him faith in his ability to carry out the tasks he must soon perform.
The second AV rose and immediately had the same capabilities as the first robot. He let one AV get the amount of serum needed for a test.
“Let us begin,” he said. The AV, the model that Nuria had controlled, dribbled the serum onto the cell culture. Marchenko observed how things developed. The serum was thin and spread quickly over the culture. At first nothing transpired, but then things happened very rapidly. In a few seconds, the walls of the cells broke open and the contents merged into a pulp.
He waited for a while and then added sulfur. After ten minutes nothing had occurred, except that the mush changed color from the addition. The serum had done its job impeccably. Marchenko fervently hoped that RB had also simulated how well the human body tolerated the serum.
Meanwhile, enough serum had been manufactured to heal a person. Marchenko let Erik’s AV draw up the serum into the syringe.
“Hungry!” Peter shouted loudly and imperiously.
“Hello, Peter. Did you sleep well?”
Peter was alive! And the parasites had evidently preserved his brain function. But he did not seem to be the same person. He jumped up and tried to push aside the other AV standing next to his couch.
The robot reacted quickly. It stabilized itself and prepared to go on the offensive. A human running amok stood no chance against such a machine.
“Let me go!” Peter cried, but Marchenko, in the shape of the second AV, did not yield a millimeter.
“You’ll feel better soon,” the first AV said in Marchenko’s voice as it injected the serum.
But nothing happened.
“Ahhhh!”
A bloodcurdling scream came from Peter’s mouth. His body went limp.
“Peter?”
Silence.
“Peter!”
“Yes,” he mumbled as he opened his eyes.
The AVs released him and took a step back. Peter straightened his upper body with difficulty.
“I feel completely drained, but nevertheless well.”
“Thank goodness your brain is working again!” Marchenko exclaimed. His relieved laughter sounded through the speakers.
Peter fell onto the couch. “How is Maria?” he asked.
“We have to wait until there’s enough serum for her dose. Then we can cure her, too. Would you like something to eat or drink?”
“It would be nice to have a glass of water.”
Erik’s AV handed him a jug, and Peter gulped down its contents.
Maria was babbling, half-asleep. “Can somebody help me?”
Peter sat up with the help of an AV and carefully stretched. Then he stood up and went to Maria. One of her thumbs was in her mouth. He pulled it out and caressed her head.
“She will soon be back to normal,” Marchenko said.
“Where’s Katarina?” Peter asked. “And what kind of robots are these?”
“As soon as Maria is well again, I’ll write up a report about the last few days. Then you will understand all the connections. And now, first eat something!”
An AV had placed a selection of food from the fridge on the table. Peter sat down and ate.
“Try the dried fruit!”
“Those shrunken things might serve as emergency provisions, but otherwise that stuff will not get on my plate.”
A long-drawn-out whimper showed that the serum had worked on Maria, too. There were beads of sweat on her forehead. When she opened her eyes she said, “Peter?”
He got up and went to her. “Yes, I’m here. How are you?”
“Not sure. Exhausted.”
“What’s your last name?” Marchenko asked. Although he was already sure that Maria’s brain was working, he wanted to play it safe.
“Maria Kuznetsova, but you know t
hat, Marchenko.”
Instead of answering, Marchenko let the AVs dance a waltz. The music played in the quantum computer, imperceptible to humans.
As soon as Marchenko realized that, he turned on the speakers. “I can’t tell you how relieved I am!” he said while the music played in the background.
“It’s hard to miss,” Peter said, grinning. “May I have this dance, Maria?”
“In principle, yes, but I can’t dance yet. Will you bring me a drink?”
Peter filled a glass at the water dispenser and gave it to her. “A few pieces of dried fruit?” he asked.
Maria nodded. But a short while after she began to chew, she spat the leftovers onto the plate. “They taste awful! Something else, please.”
Maria and Peter looked at the report summarizing the events of the past few days.
“What did these parasites do to us?” Peter asked. “Are these pathogens intelligent?”
“Not really,” Maria answered quietly. “I think they just tried to satisfy their own needs with what our bodies offered them.”
“But isn’t it a damned coincidence that man, of all things, can serve as a host?”
Maria propped up her elbows on the table and rested her head on her hands. “The structures we discovered show that these single-celled organisms form huge colonies,” she said. “They don’t depend on other organisms to form their colonies. So, they’re not parasites after all.”
“But based on the records, I have a different impression.”
“I don’t know what you mean, Peter. But let’s consider this objectively. The unicellular organisms have no opportunity to multiply. Presumably, the temperature is to blame, or the atmosphere, or the pressure, or some combination of the three. And suddenly they have the opportunity to come to life again. Any living thing would take advantage of such a chance!”
Marchenko admired how dispassionately Maria viewed the issue, and he knew that it would be better for everyone if she and Peter dealt with their trauma themselves. That was why he chose to remain silent.
The Clouds of Venus: Hard Science Fiction Page 25
