Proxima Dreaming

by Brandon Q Morris

  “How long would I have to wait for the occupants of the light green capsules to wake up?”

  “The convalescence will differ based on the individual, but you can assume three to twelve weeks. I would recommend the assistance of a doctor, or several.”

  How is he supposed to find those? He glances at the distribution of capsules marked yellow and red. If he assumes that half of the yellow ones will survive, they lost several thousand men and women of the crew. The number seems so abstract he doesn’t feel anything. He is much more affected by the death of the general, whom he can still see with his rear eye. He has probably been sitting in this chair for many years, a sad figure.

  Gronolf blocks out this image to focus on the status report again. The system talked about the Majestic Draght restarting. The name sounds like that of a capital spaceship. Gronolf’s belly skin feels hot, as if warmed by his whirling thoughts. He has to remember! He stops the movement of his knees using both load-hands. He can’t bear sitting in the seat any longer and gets up. Gronolf starts walking around in the control center.

  He looks at the holo-map. He activates it and places the cursor on the current system. There it is, the red sun and its companion, on which his rapidly growing people had placed such great hopes. Yes, it was the Majestic Draght that transported all of them here. It was there, on some command deck, that he had learned to operate the control console and the holo-map. He remembers the touch-hand of the trainer who showed him the start sequences. These are only visual fragments he can call up now in his mind. He has to try to put them in sequence again so he can begin to form complete memories. That will have to wait, though. He has a task to finish first.

  He focuses the holo-map on the planet of Single Sun. The capital ship must be waiting somewhere in its vicinity. He finds the Majestic Draght sooner than expected. Its gigantic body, reminiscent of a sphere whale, is approaching on a direct course. If the ship does not decelerate, it will collide with this world in six days. He has found out why he was awakened.

  Gronolf immediately sends a warning message. The Majestic Draght has to change course right away. He estimates the current distance. The signal shouldn’t take longer than one-hundredth of a bubble period, as the capital ship is already so close. He has to wait. His foot automatically starts tapping the rhythm of the micro-bubble periods. Gronolf lets it do that. This way he can reduce stress, which otherwise would discharge itself in an explosive reaction. He does not want to destroy the control panel of the holo-map.

  Another 21, 14, 7 micro-bubble periods. By now the signal must have reached the Majestic Draght. Yet the ship does not change course. Gronolf hits himself hard on his sensitive belly region. Of course not! He has to wait until the time for the return of the signal is over in order to see what has happened. He lets his foot tap again. He focuses on the noise in order to distract himself while waiting. Should he already consider the next steps? One thing at a time, his mother used to tell him. He waits. 21, 14, 7. Now the time has come. For safety’s sake he presses the reload button so the map will update its display.

  The Majestic Draght is still racing toward the planet!

  May 9, 19, Adam

  Adam briefly shuts his eyes. He can’t believe what he just read. Yet there is no mistaking what the sentence says. “Wonderful,” he types on the small screen of the universal device. “How can I help you?”

  “Need energy.”

  Adam checks the status of his suit. He can give Marchenko a few watt-hours, but he had better wait with that until he is on dry ground. “Taking you into building,” he types.

  “Thanks.”

  He removes all cables and lifts the sad remnant of Marchenko’s body. Even under water it is amazingly heavy. He hopes he can still swim while carrying it. He aims his helmet lamp upward. After about ten meters, the water swallows the beam of light. So it must be at least 15 meters to the entrance. He can only use his legs to propel them up there.

  He holds on to Marchenko and pushes off. Flippers on his feet would be practical, but the suit was designed for the conditions on the ice, not in water. Adam moves his legs as fast as he can. The kicking movements slowly carry him upwards. He stops briefly, but immediately begins to descend. He can only rest once he has arrived. After five meters he sees a jagged edge. It can’t have been developed naturally. Perhaps Marchenko knows what happened here. He will ask him later, when he is recharging.

  Adam is breathing heavily. The added weight pulls on him and tries to drag him into the depth. He does not give up. The inside of his helmet visor fogs up, but he can still see his destination. Another two meters or so and he will be there. He should have held Marchenko a different way. His hands hurt. Damn, now the thing is starting to slide.

  Adam stops Marchenko’s body with his knee, but then he can’t kick anymore. He sinks one meter, then two. With a great deal of effort he manages to change his grip. Better—now it is not sliding anymore. He kicks his legs with all his strength and manages to lift Marchenko. Here comes the edge. He jerks the heavy body upward. He manages to place one end over the building’s exterior wall. Now he just has to push to get Marchenko to safety for the time being. While keeping in position by kicking with both legs, he pushes with both hands. Finally the thing slides onto the edge. Shit, he just smashed his left wrist with full force against the sharp edge. His suit is torn at that spot and he feels a stabbing pain. He sees blood seeping into the water. He slides slightly to the side and cautiously pulls himself up on the ledge. He sits down and takes a deep breath.

  He has still not quite made it. Adam shines his helmet lamp at his surroundings. One and a half meters to his right he sees a corridor. Is this their way out? He definitely has to check the water surface, as there might be a more comfortable exit there. Adam sighs, gets up, and swims to the top. Without the weight of Marchenko this presents no problem, even with his wrist hurting.

  He emerges in a spherical hall. It is filled with breathable air, according to the universal device on his arm. But there is no exit. He only sees a few openings high up, which he cannot reach. He has probably ended up in the garbage dump of this building. How did Marchenko get here, and what caused his current state? This is going to be an interesting conversation.

  He slowly slides back down again. Where is Marchenko? Did he... no, he is there on the left and has not moved. Adam’s heart is beating faster. He must not lose Marchenko again. He carefully lifts the heavy object. The corridor starts at this height, so he can now walk. While the weight pulls down on his arms, it helps him walk, as his feet get better traction on the surface. The corridor leads slightly upward. While it is not a difficult path in itself, Adam has to take a break now and then due to carrying Marchenko in his arms.

  After a while the corridor becomes steeper and Adam needs more frequent breaks. Twice he even slides backwards a bit. He deactivated the suit heater a long time ago, not just because he is sweating, but due to the gradually increasing water temperature. Is this the discharge pipe of a cooling mechanism? He hopes the water won’t get too hot. He would really like to take off his suit completely, to get rid of its weight, but he needs the air to breathe.

  Finally the pipe becomes horizontal. I should soon find an exit, he thinks. Then, just at the right moment, he notices light shining from above. The source is a rectangular opening in the top of the pipe. Adam takes a closer look and notices that a plate attached with screws must once have been located there. Somebody unfastened it and pushed the metal plate outside. That could only have been Marchenko 2. It is too early for an encounter, though. His own Marchenko is not nearly ready for action, and Adam alone would stand no chance against the crazy AI in the robot body.

  He puts Marchenko’s body down. Then Adam cautiously approaches the opening. He emerges from the water slowly to keep from splashing, places his healthy hand quietly against the edge of the opening in the pipe, and pulls himself up just far enough so he can peek over it. This room is empty, except for the pipe. It is brightly lit by
the side walls. And here is the most important thing: They are alone. Very good!

  He bends down and picks up Marchenko. Now comes the tricky part: He has to lift the massive object without the buoyancy provided by the water, and get it up and through the opening. He won’t be able to hold onto it and climb out himself at the same time. The pipe runs at a height of about a meter and a half above the floor of the room. Before Adam can get himself out he will have to drop Marchenko from the pipe to the floor. Will the remnant of Marchenko’s body be able to withstand that without incurring further defects? He cannot even ask or warn him without once again connecting his universal device to Marchenko. He will just have to risk it.

  Adam takes a deep breath. Then he jerks the heavy body upward, lifts it through the air to the edge of the opening in the pipe, pushes it out and lets it go. He watches Marchenko fall down. It makes a resonant thud and the echo hurts his ears. Adam looks at his left wrist, which is still bleeding. He must have left a trail of blood. He tries to pull his own body up to the edge of the opening in the pipe. Yet his right hand alone is too weak, and he cannot use his left as usual.

  Luckily he remembers his suit. He no longer needs it now. He takes it off, which takes a bit longer using just one hand, then he throws it down to the floor in pieces. When the helmet hits, he hears a nasty cracking sound. That must be the visor. Without it, he won’t be leaving this building the same way he entered. Later on, though, Marchenko should be able to create a whole new helmet for him.

  He feels considerably lighter now, as he is just wearing his thermal underwear. And he’s right—at this reduced weight he only needs a little assistance from his left hand to support himself on the pipe as he swings his legs outward and gently slides down. He lands on both feet. His right knee feels a sharp stab of pain. The pipe must have been higher than he estimated. He stretches and shakes his legs. At least he feels no serious injuries.

  Just for the sake of order he gathers the parts of his suit. The helmet can no longer be saved, so he might as well leave it here, but he can use the rest. He pushes Marchenko’s body toward the wall. Then he sits down next to it, activates the universal device, connects the cables just as before, and transfers the rest of the energy stored in his suit to Marchenko. Soon he will be able to talk to his old friend again. He is already looking forward to it.

  First, he has to get some shut-eye, at least half an hour.

  May 9, 19, Marchenko 2

  The perfect preparation for a murder is difficult if you don’t know what sort of creature you will be dealing with. Marchenko 2 is resting in a side corridor in order to think about the perfect weapon. It must handle three possible types of enemy.

  First, Eve, a human. She is the easiest target, because compared to him she is weak and slow. However, he only wants to incapacitate her if it should become necessary. He definitely won’t try to kill her. After all, she is his daughter!

  Secondly, the other Marchenko, who is an equal and formidable opponent. Against him the element of surprise will be critical. Therefore he needs a weapon that can be used quickly and generates maximum effect against a machine.

  And then there is the third enemy type. So far, he has only heard a scream uttered by this enemy. Marchenko 2 does not believe it is a machine. It would make no sense for a machine to communicate this way. Perhaps his interpretation contains too much human psychology, but he heard an immense amount of anger and frustration in that scream. But, he has to be careful not to let himself be guided by familiar factors. Perhaps the alien is the size of a mouse and regularly utters such sounds while eating. Given that he knows so little, he had better develop a generous-sized weapon.

  Accordingly, he needs an adaptable, powerful, and fast-acting weapon that works against both hard and soft targets. Marchenko 2 can only think of one solution—electrical energy. He can use it to incapacitate Eve and probably any other biological creature, as well as the robot in which the consciousness of the other Marchenko is hiding. Electrical energy flows fast and its strength can be easily controlled. To use it he would not need anything more complicated than a kind of whip, which would also be rather inconspicuous. He can have his nano-fabricators make this metal whip within 15 minutes. Of course he also needs electricity, but he can easily tap the walls for that. He only needs to remove the top layer, where the luminous cells are located, and then apply a kind of collection net. He still does not know how much power the internal building network receives. However, if charging his internal batteries takes too long, he can simply increase the size of his collection net.

  Marchenko 2 goes to the entrance of the side corridor and looks all around. He really does not want to be surprised while he is not yet ready. He listens directly on the floor, but nobody seems to be approaching. He would prefer a corridor branching off at an angle, which would completely shield him from anyone passing by, but it would cost valuable time to search for one. He believes he is not far away from the central room. The risk of someone roaming through this particular corridor seems small and acceptable.

  So he starts on his task. The whip is going to grow from his right front leg so that he can employ it with a quick movement. If he discharges his battery down to ten percent within an extremely short time, it should kill even an elephant. He will have to be very careful with Eve. There is one problem he cannot solve: Once he has used the whip against a strong target, it will have to recharge before the next use, which he estimates will take at least half an hour. He will have to use a strategy that allows him to eliminate opponents one by one. All in good time, he thinks, concentrating on transmitting the necessary plans to his nano-fabricators.

  Brightnight 36, 3876

  Gronolf walks through the control center with a heavy, swaying gait. He requires only five steps from one end of the room to the other. He turns around with considerable momentum. He has placed his sensitive touch-arms over his shoulders. The load-arms are fighting with each other without Gronolf noticing it, as if they are two independent body parts.

  Gronolf is proud of what the Grosnops have achieved during their long history. The subcutaneous thinking layers distributed across his entire body, his brain, allow him to move all limbs without significant delays. Once he makes a decision, the movement is lightning fast. However, this does not help him decide what to do next. He has been thinking for half a bubble period, but he is still undecided. The system is also not very helpful. While it summarizes the dramatic situation quite well—the Majestic Draght is still hurtling toward them—it cannot draw any conclusions.

  Oh well. He orders his load-arms to stop fighting each other. An intruder must have caused the current situation. It would make sense to catch, interrogate, and punish this person. He therefore has to find the intruder. Maybe this alone would be enough to avert the danger. Gronolf hopes so, even though he has a hunch it won’t be that simple. If it were that easy, he thinks, the system could have awakened that mediocre female. That would have been more efficient than using his highly-developed resources. He suppresses the thought about what will happen later.

  Gronolf sits back down in his chair and activates the console, which had turned itself off. The control room records everything that happens here. He navigates through the image library. Gronolf is surprised that he does not have to go back far.

  A strange creature had been here in the room, only a few hours ago. It appears to be small and weak. Its legs are as thin as stickfish, and it only has two arms. Two arms! It’s a miracle that this creature has survived for so long. In the middle of its body, above the upper part of its arms, this creature has a large bulge, a spherical growth covered by a strange kind of... plant? One side of this sphere has two eyes. The creature must be blind on the other side. How can it defend itself against enemies coming from behind?

  Gronolf sees right away that this intruder poses no danger to himself. He could defeat it easily. Yet he must not underestimate this creature either. After all, this creature found the way to Single Sun, just like his own sp
ecies did. It crossed inhospitable space and finally survived a hike through the icy darkness. Most likely, it did not come alone. Gronolf checks the recordings but cannot find a second specimen. What is that on the floor, though? Something is wiggling there—it reminds him of a fish on dry land. Oh, there is another one. The intruder must have brought helpers along. These tiny things are probably machines because they are so different from the creature. They don’t seem to be dangerous either.

  Yet it might be better if he got a weapon. His nation had left its warlike past long behind. During the first 343 cycles, which went down in history as the Dark Seven-Times-Seven-Times-Seven Period, shortly after the Grosnops had emerged from the silt of the oceans, there were two factions viciously fighting each other. Then one of the groups was defeated, and the vanquished assimilated over time. Since then, weapons were seldom used for anything but hunting. This building contains its own arsenal, he knows. Yet for safety’s sake there are also a few weapons stored in the control center.

  Gronolf goes directly to one of the chest-high consoles and taps on it. A drawer opens up. He has the choice of a projectile thrower, which is more suitable for smaller opponents, or a harpoon. He considered the projectile thrower a mere toy. A carriontooth would just laugh at that. Even if he hit that sort of predator with ten projectiles, it still would spear him without any hesitation. The harpoon on the other hand...

  Gronolf remembers the legendary hunt with the plex shortly after his draght. A carriontooth swam toward him. Gronolf had readied the harpoon too soon, and unfortunately the animal turned and fled. The carriontooth must have known that the harpoon would blast its chest. He and his plex-mates really had a lot of fun back then.