The Titan Probe

by Brandon Q Morris

  Martin Neumaier really wanted to get home. He was tired of this seemingly never-ending adventure, but the crew of ILSE still had about eleven months of flight ahead of them. Right now, Martin was wishing he could curl himself into the folds of his grandmother’s skirt like he used to do as a little kid. He wanted someone who would caress him and tell him everything would be all right. He certainly did not feel all right. The day before yesterday, Jiaying had told him it was all over between them.

  Why, just why? Yesterday Martin had skipped his shift, saying he was sick. He also did not exercise, but instead spent the time lying in his cabin, giving in to feelings ranging from grief to anger. He had saved her life, and she had saved his. They understood each other, had shared both their dreams and the humdrum routine on board the spaceship they finally had returned to. And now this? Didn’t he at least have a right to find out the reason for their breakup, to hear what he had done wrong? Instead he had heard meaningless phrases like, ‘It’s not your fault,’ ‘It’s no use,’ and ‘You deserve someone better.’

  How was he supposed to make it through the coming months? How did she imagine it working? The spaceship was not large enough for them to avoid one another. They would still have to talk to each other and share shifts, especially now. With the entire crew consisting of only five people, there was no room for personal animosities. How could the situation ever become normal again, if Jiaying did not answer any of his questions?

  Martin swiped the sun aside with his index finger. At this scale, he could not find Earth without the help of a computer. Of all the planets, he could only see Jupiter clearly. It moved around the sun in its own orbit and approached the trajectory of ILSE, which was aimed at the future position of Earth, with a speed of 13 kilometers per second.

  Jupiter is a remnant of the primal period of the solar system. This gigantic ball of gas is 11 times the diameter of Earth and has 300 times its mass. It outweighs the combined mass of all the other planets by two-and-a-half times, and its gravitational pull had a significant influence on the construction of the solar system.

  On our way out, Jupiter was behind the sun when we crossed its orbit, so we will soon be able to admire its full size for the very first time. The planet needs almost 12 Earth years to orbit around the sun. Martin then scoffed at his thoughts. They would not reach the orbital plane of Jupiter ‘soon’ and, having reached that point, be halfway home. It would still take months before the gas planet and its numerous moons would bring some change to his daily routine.

  There was a knock on the door. It must be Amy, as nobody else rapped on the door in such an old-fashioned way, using their knuckles. The commander is just doing her duty by checking on me, he thought. At the same time, he was angry at himself for being so unfair to her, though right now the world wasn’t exactly treating him fairly, either.

  There was another knock. Amy, of course, would never just burst into his room unannounced. She was so damned polite and considerate.

  “Come on in, I’m here,” he finally called out. The door opened, and indeed it was Amy who entered his cabin. She was wearing a NASA overall, not uncommon for her. He rarely saw her in a civilian outfit, particularly since the special clothing was intended to mitigate long-term side effects of low gravity.

  “How are you doing? Can I help you somehow?” asked Amy quietly.

  Martin felt like giving a snotty answer, but he simply could not do it because Amy’s face so clearly expressed real concern. He couldn’t slap Bambi in the face, could he?

  “Thanks. It’s okay,” he answered, trying to use a neutral tone.

  “I have talked to Jiaying. She told me she broke up with you, which has left you quite devastated, understandably so.”

  “Yes?” If Jiaying actually cared she could tell me herself, he thought, shaking his head.

  “Yes,” Amy said, “and I got the impression she really means it.”

  “Great,” Martin answered. “That is so helpful.”

  As if physically struck by his cynical reply, Amy flinched slightly.

  How can a commander be so sensitive? “Amy, I am sorry, but I'm not doing very well and I just don’t understand it,” he said. “Did she give you any kind of explanation?”

  The commander shook her head. “Unfortunately, I don’t know any more than you do. Maybe she herself doesn’t know the reason. When I was 20, I dumped a great boyfriend. I just got a strong feeling I had to do it—right then. Later I regretted my decision, but by then he was already married.”

  “Jiaying isn’t 20 anymore.”

  “This is true. Honestly, I didn’t get the impression it was a spontaneous decision. Jiaying is very goal-oriented, as you know. If she comes to a decision, she has a good reason for it.”

  “That’s what bothers me. It has to be something connected with me, because otherwise she could have told me.”

  “I can imagine how that preys on your mind.” Amy focused on the wall, as if something was going through her head.

  “Right now, you need some diversion,” she said. “Do you want to watch a movie with me?” She looked at her watch. “Hayato is taking care of Sol right now, and my shift won’t start for another three hours.”

  Martin could not help but smile. Amy actually wanted to sacrifice her free time for him. He was touched by this. He looked to the side so she wouldn’t notice.

  “No, it’s okay,” he replied. “I’ll just get on the exercise bike for a while. Thanks for coming to see me.”

  “Okay, of course you're welcome. And if you need someone to talk to, you know...”

  Martin nodded, sat up on the edge of his bed, and started putting on his sneakers.

  “See you later,” Amy said, closing the door of his cabin again as she left. Martin fell onto his side on his bed, pushed the shoes from his feet, grabbed his tablet and rolled over on his back, bringing up a book he had started reading a week ago. He suddenly remembered Jiaying recommending it to him. He almost felt like putting the tablet aside, but he forced himself to continue reading.

  February 15, 2047, Fort Meade

  A black sedan approached a low, even blacker rectangular building. The vehicle rolled slowly across the huge parking lot. Only a few cars remained by this time. About every twenty meters the sedan was bathed in the light of another streetlamp. Even so, the passengers inside could not be seen due to the reflective windows. The building they approached concealed a metal skeleton beneath its shimmering surface. This skeleton kept any radiation from entering or leaving. They could see an entrance in the middle of the wall that, from a distance, looked more like a socket. The almost-silent black sedan drove into it.

  “Dear guests, we have arrived,” a voice said over the loudspeaker. One could not tell whether it was a computer-generated recording or the voice of a real human being. Well, the automatic system drove the car, Major Shixin Tang thought, though he could not be entirely sure of that either, since the driver’s seat was surrounded by an opaque box. He looked at the woman accompanying him. She called herself Lining Li, but the name was certainly as fake as his own. At least he had been allowed to choose his own, and he liked this one because it meant “lion heart.” He wondered whether his colleague chose her name due to its meaning—strength, force, peace? He would never find out, anyway, since they were not allowed to discuss private matters during a mission, in order to prevent their adversaries from using this information against them.

  Their adversaries. Shixin smiled. They were about to enter the headquarters of one of their adversaries, the center of one of their most important intelligence services, the National Security Agency. Twenty years ago, this country and his own had been involved in a huge conflict regarding North Korea, and now they were suddenly best of friends. How quickly a common threat could form the basis for a temporary relationship.

  “Please walk toward the door,” a voice said. Green lights on the floor showed him where to stand. Then he heard a slight humming. Right now, a terahertz scanner was probably searc
hing him for hidden objects, and a computer was comparing the structure of his iris with the data his superiors had previously sent to the NSA.

  “Welcome, Major Tang,” the voice finally said, while a hidden door opened. Shixin looked around, but he could not see his colleague. He waited, until the voice spoke again.

  “Please follow the corridor,” it said, and the major obeyed. He reached a small room where his colleague was already waiting for him. She gave him a mocking smile.

  “Well, did you have problems with Immigrations?” asked Lining sarcastically.

  He expected her to be troublesome. After all, she had reached the same rank as his own, despite being fifteen years younger than he was. The only way one moved up the ranks so quickly was by cleverly sidelining people who had been working longer in the same field. Maybe his own superiors were using her to test him. If he could not handle her, even though she was officially his subordinate, they would certainly put him out to pasture—at the age of 52!

  I will not let that happen, Shixin thought. He looked around. The room was an area of about three square meters, four at the most. The walls appeared to be perfectly smooth and he could not detect any doors, although he and his colleague had to have entered through different doors. Along one side were two narrow chairs, but neither he nor Lining bothered to sit down. They were probably being watched. Undoubtedly, the Americans wanted to know what kind of agents China had sent here.

  What they had been told must be true—these people were really into clever mind games. Like typical Westerners, they used confusion and enticement instead of simply and directly addressing their clients in a way that permitted no opposition. Shixin shook his head. He could think freely, which was an advantage only agents sent abroad, such as Lining and himself, had.

  At one point in the past, a highly-skilled surgeon had implanted electromagnetic shielding below their scalps. Otherwise, the danger of adversaries reading their brainwaves would be too great. Of course this attribute also protected him at home, as long as he did not act suspiciously and give them a reason to have a doctor perform the painful procedure to remove the metal net, which had long ago grown into his skull.

  Without any warning a narrow door opened. Lining gestured for him to go first, even though this was his right anyway, due to his age and seniority. This is a provocation, Shixin realized. He hoped the Americans would not notice such subtleties, as they could exploit this detail. However, they were here as friends, so maybe his worries were unfounded.

  The hallway in front of them was softly lit at top and bottom. It turned at a slight angle, and then they stood in front of a wall disguised as a mirror. His iris was probably being scanned again, since it took a few seconds before the wall quickly slid to one side.

  “Good morning, Major Tang,” said the tall black man standing beyond it and smiling broadly. His English does not sound so pure. Must be some Southern accent, Shixin thought.

  “I am Michael Butterfield, but you can call me Mike.”

  “Nice to meet you,” Shixin said. “Well, let’s all stick to first names then.”

  Mike smiled. He noticed the little linguistic test his counterpart had given him. He replied, “Thanks, Shixin,” pronouncing the x correctly as ‘kh.’Next he greeted Shixin’s colleague, Lining.

  Then the American pointed at another door that seemed to open by itself, revealing the inside of a large conference room. Shixin followed the invitation. When they entered, a Marine Corps general and a woman in a business suit rose to greet them. The woman introduced herself as an analyst, giving no name, while the officer’s name was clearly visible on his uniform. Shixin took some pictures with the camera integrated into his retina, just in case. He really wanted to know who this woman was. She presumably worked for the NSA, and she was also rather good-looking, for an American.

  Mike seemed to be the one in command, or at least to be directing things, as he now asked everyone to sit down at the large table. He sat down, too, while the nameless analyst remained standing. The opposite wall, which looked like gray concrete, turned into a giant screen. Not bad, Shixin thought, without letting on. The projection technology could not even be seen, which meant the optically-active layer must be directly on the wall. It was probably a mosaic of smaller quantum dot displays, because that was the only way—to his knowledge—to achieve this level of brightness.

  The screen showed Enceladus, a moon of Saturn. The viewer approached its surface in a rapid dive, while the analyst started with her report.

  “You know what this is all about, so I won’t bother you with minor details,” said the woman. Then she snapped her fingers and the video froze.

  “The crew of ILSE encountered an alien life form in the Enceladus Ocean. It appears to be peaceful. We know there was successful communication with it. The creature, which we have given the code name Hydra, consists of large, and I mean truly large, numbers of cells that look primitive at first sight, but can fulfill any necessary function.”

  The display now showed the cells through a microscope. Shixin was already familiar with the photos taken by the German crew member of ILSE. These cells were obviously not all identical. Though he was no biologist, he recognized that he was, however, seeing repetitive structures. A female expert belonging to his intelligence service had compared them to snowflakes, which individually look quite different but the structures of which followed specific rules.

  “Basically, there are fewer than twenty different types of cells. However, the biologists are not completely sure, since the cells seem to be able to change from one type into another. Unfortunately, we have not been able to observe this process in its original habitat. Also, there is no sample on board ILSE that we could examine further in this respect.”

  “Which is probably for the best,” Shixin said, “as we do not want any alien life on our planet.”

  The analyst nodded. “We totally agree with you. You know what biologists can be like.”

  Shixin wondered if the Americans were hiding something from him. His own country’s experts considered it unlikely, because the U.S. commander of the spaceship never had any contact with the life form. The Russians, on the other hand—well, you certainly couldn’t put it past them. Shixin had felt respect for their man—Marchenko was his name—when he heard of his incredible action on Enceladus, going all alone in a submarine to the origin of this life form, without any chance of survival. What good did it do him? Posthumous fame as a hero of Russia, maybe, but what use was that? On the other hand, it was good that his adventure did not end in a complete success...

  “... at least 100 million cells per square centimeter.” Lining nudged Shixin with her elbow. Damn it! he thought, I must not let myself get distracted. Without displaying any emotion he brought his focus back to the analyst, who now seemed to be speculating about the size of the entity. He did not look at his younger colleague.

  “Conservative estimates assume about 10 to the power of 23 cells, but there might be 10 to the power of 25. In a way it does not matter. The average human being, as you probably know, consists of 10 to the power of 14 cells. Hydra therefore has the same number of cells as at least 100 million humans, or maybe even ten billion. Now let’s imagine 100 million humans who could unite their brainpower. What would this lead to? On the one hand the idea is breathtaking, but on the other hand, it is frightening. We also do not know what percentage of Hydra’s cells can switch to mental functions, if necessary. We might be dealing with a biological supercomputer far surpassing anything mankind has ever constructed.”

  The numbers were certainly impressive, but the Chinese experts had already arrived at the same conclusions. Shixin had hoped the Americans would have more to offer, particularly because of the up-front work his own people had to provide.

  The analyst continued, “This would be dangerous enough if Hydra was just newborn. But this creature is at least several hundred million years old—if not billions. What could humanity achieve if it had all that time to employ suc
h enormous brainpower? And then add the sense of perception. We have credible reports indicating Hydra can perceive both X-rays and gamma rays, and can also feel magnetic fields. So much input, for which we have to build expensive devices, and it has so much processing capacity. This leads to the question for which we are all here. What about Hydra’s output?”

  Shixin had closely followed the discussions in his own country. The encounter with the alien being had generated a lot of hope, particularly among scientists at universities who were looking forward to solving mankind’s big questions. The Party leadership—or to be more exact, the conservative wing of the Party—tried to suppress these expectations. The last ‘Great Leap Forward’ of his country took place not that very long ago. Back then, millions of people had died, and since that time, continuous progress had been the country’s goal. The system was still working today, in spite of skeptical predictions by the West. Would it be wise to deviate from a proven path?

  “To be honest,” the nameless analyst continued, “I cannot answer the question concerning its output right now. One thing seems obvious, however—its potential is enormous. It is so immense, mankind currently cannot even begin to compete. Naturally, individual nations might try to turn any new insights into a weapon against their neighbors. It has taken so long to achieve a barely-stable world balance. We cannot allow anything, in any way, to endanger that balance.”

  Shixin nodded. His government had reached the same conclusion as the Americans, and that was the reason he was here.

  The analyst continued, “It might be a different situation if we had Hydra under control. Unfortunately, that is not possible.”

  Yes, your military is very interested in new technologies, Shixin thought.

  “The Europeans, the Japanese, the Russians, the Indians—they all will want to have a hand in the game,” the analyst said. “Now, we have to pay the price for not putting the expedition under military command to begin with. We should never have let civilians handle it. That being said, none of our scientists dared to predict such a stunning result.”