Proxima Dreaming

by Brandon Q Morris

  “I know.”

  Marchenko forgot that Gronolf can access all the data in the ship’s systems. He carefully watches the course taken by Messenger. With every minute the Majestic Draght looms larger.

  “This is insane,” he says. “The ship is really enormous.”

  “Thank you,” Gronolf says.

  Marchenko stands there calmly. The orbital module has no windows, which are unnecessary because he can visualize space, the planet, and the cube with his inner eye. Later he can overlay these images with what is happening directly in front of him, but right now he focuses on the view. The Omniscience might try to change its course. However, it can hardly escape him now. Such a huge ship has a correspondingly-large inertia, so that Messenger would always be faster during the first kilometers. It would be as if an elephant tried to escape a fly.

  A countdown indicates the last 60 seconds. Marchenko doesn’t actually need the countdown, but it is a nice tradition that makes it easier to prepare for exiting the ship. He pulls the cable from the console. It retreats automatically into his body like an earthworm. Then he steps to the bulkhead. The orbital module does not have an airlock, but only a simple hatch he can use to get outside. As he did not fill the module with air to begin with, there is no hissing sound when he opens the hatch. The cube is directly ahead of him. It is no longer glittering. The ‘gems’ have turned into individual raised sections with a height and width between 30 and 50 meters.

  “Three, two, one.”

  “Jump,” Gronolf shouts.

  Marchenko pushes off slightly and then triggers the jets in his shoulders. Once he is ten meters away from Messenger, the ship changes course and retreats. He might need the vessel again. He approaches the Majestic Draght at a slow pace. He is glad he arrived near the central axis where the shell of the cube rotates more slowly.

  Where is the best entrance? The axis itself seems to be massive, having no hatches or anything similar. The round shaft in its center leads directly to the engine. Trying to enter there would be a guaranteed way to die, as the Omniscience would only have to activate the engine briefly and he would roast at a temperature of several thousand degrees.

  Not a good idea. Instead, Marchenko aims for a round structure on the hull in the sector next to the axis. “An airlock?” he asks.

  “Confirmed. But I don’t think...”

  “Don’t worry.” He did not exactly tell Gronolf about the tricks he was capable of performing. Some of that came from a desire to show off, but there was also the risk that the Omniscience might be eavesdropping. Marchenko does not expect that it is willing to let its former passengers escape easily.

  Only three more meters to the airlock. Marchenko decelerates with his shoulder jets. In order to cushion the impact he stretches his legs forward. They absorb the kinetic energy of his body.

  “The access panel is toward the axis,” Gronolf explains. “You should have the necessary access rights.”

  Marchenko looks for the panel Gronolf described. It has two buttons. “How do I identify myself?”

  Gronolf gives him a frequency. “You pronounce your name.”

  Marchenko establishes a connection “General Dukar,” he says, using the original voice of the dead officer. The Omniscience must know that the general is in the shelter building, so it would be plausible for him to appear here. Yet nothing happens.

  “Is the airlock receiving energy?” asks Gronolf.

  Marchenko looks at the area in the infrared spectrum. “Yes, there is electricity flowing.”

  “Then the Omniscience does not want the general on board. I don’t think it would be different at the other airlocks. So, do you have to use the shaft?”

  “I am not suicidal.”

  Marchenko touches the metal surface between the panel and the airlock. There it is, a slight indentation between the door and the outer hull. The airlock is airtight, but that is a relative term. While no air can escape, there is a little bit of a gap between the door and the wall. At least it is enough for the special tool he constructed. It consists of a chain of nano-fabricators he modified, which are as flat as a string of single atoms. He puts his right thumb against the center of the gap. Sensors locate the exact spot and then the string gets underway. The only problem is the time—the chain needs a few minutes to reach the other side. There it will start to produce small sensors and tools from available materials.

  After 20 minutes he receives the first low-resolution images through the string.

  “Not bad,” Gronolf says via radio.

  Another 20 minutes pass before Marchenko can have his ‘agents’ manually open the door from the inside. Two large bolts have to be pushed aside, and then the door can be opened outward. “I am inside,” he says.

  “I am impressed,” replies Gronolf.

  “I hope the Omniscience did not lock all the doors this way. That would cost us too much time.”

  “I cannot imagine it.”

  Marchenko would like to know what Gronolf’s optimism is based on, but he doesn’t say anything. He first closes the external door and then examines the inner airlock door. Even that door does not react to the general’s name. Does the Omniscience already suspect something?

  “Tshyort vosmi,” he says.

  “What did you say?”

  “It doesn’t matter, Gronolf. A swearword from my home country.”

  Marchenko once again searches for a gap between the door and the wall. He will probably need more patience than he expected. “How many hours do we have left?” Marchenko asks.

  “Six, I would estimate.”

  “I see nine more doors on the map.”

  Marchenko imagines going through the airlock door and entering a long corridor. Suddenly numerous new doors slam down. He can’t even count that fast. Then he returns to reality. “Nonsense,” he says to himself and shakes his head.

  “What do you mean?”

  “Sorry, I am just thinking out loud. How are... Adam and Eve?” He almost called them ‘the children.’

  “They are watching and are very excited.”

  “Fine.”

  “Speaking of watching. The Majestic Draght will soon be entering the radio shadow of the planet. We will lose our connection.”

  “The way it looks, I am getting along quite well by myself. How much longer?”

  “I can’t tell for sure. As soon as the atmosphere interferes, the connection will degrade, and once you move below the horizon, it should stop altogether.”

  “I understand. I won’t be surprised when I suddenly can’t hear you.”

  Brightnight 39, 3876

  Marchenko’s plan is really impressive. Gronolf himself probably would have failed to get into the airlock. He might not have succeeded in breaching the hull with an explosive charge. One would not notice it from looking at this machine, but it has capabilities far surpassing those of a Grosnop. If he manages to get the humans to his home world, that might offset the costs for the entire expedition—and save his honor. The Production Experts and Knowledge Scientists would kill for a chance to examine Marchenko.

  But he is getting ahead of himself. They have not yet solved the problem. They are still in a life-threatening situation. If the Omniscience has really placed nine locked doors between itself and its visitor, they can only hope against hope that it will veer off in the end, instead of destroying the ship and the building—and the planet with it.

  Marchenko opens the inner airlock door, which requires some strength to overcome the air pressure there. The door slams shut behind him. With the aid of the cameras, Gronolf can see over Marchenko’s shoulders into a corridor illuminated by flickering light. This sector looks oddly familiar to him. It would be a great coincidence, but it is not impossible... He wants to use the right eye to look sideways, as usual, but there is nothing there. How can Marchenko work under such restrictions?

  “Could you look to the right?” requests Gronolf.

  The camera turns to the side while Marchenko slo
wly walks through the hallway. It captures the image of the side corridor. At its end... Marchenko has already passed it before Gronolf can clearly see what is at the end of the side corridor.

  “Could you go a few steps back?”

  “Aye, aye,” Marchenko says. He turns around and steps back. This causes the camera to be pointed in the wrong direction.

  That is terrible, Gronolf thinks. What kind of evolutionary trick allowed humans to survive in spite of the disadvantage caused by their physique? “Please look at the other side,” he says.

  Marchenko also fulfills this request.

  “And now stand still briefly.”

  The machine stops abruptly. Indeed, at the end of the side corridor is a door blasted off its hinges. Gronolf zooms in on the image. It is obvious. This is the place he and Murnaka must have been a long time ago. The corridor itself shows no sign of all the cycles that have passed. It looks as if it had been built yesterday, except for the flickering lights.

  There is a crackling in the audio channel. Gronolf suspected it. He looks at the time. So far, this is only the effect of the atmosphere. He would like Marchenko to run, but he refrains from urging him on. Marchenko knows exactly what to do. If this is really the corridor he and Murnaka used in the past, the life-support control room should be located at its end.

  “I believe you will find the life-support room ahead,” Gronolf says.

  “That room also contains the airlock that will get me to the right path toward the security chamber.”

  “Exactly. Back then, the Omniscience placed its security robots in front of the airlock.”

  “And what is behind it?”

  “I don’t know. We failed in the life-support center.”

  “Good to know. If the robots defeated a fighting machine like you, it won’t be easy for me.”

  “They electrified the floor, and I simply ran inside.”

  “Without sufficient information about the area held by the enemy? A tactical mistake.”

  “I was stupid.”

  “You obviously survived.”

  “But Murnaka didn’t.”

  “Murnaka?”

  “Never mind.”

  “I understand,” Marchenko says. “But how can you be so sure she is dead? Did you consciously experience the end of the fight?”

  “You are right. I also found indications in the archive that she might have survived. Yet in my memory I caused her death.”

  “I am here now.” That went faster than expected. There are no nine doors left, that is clear, at most four—the one to the life-support center, two airlock doors and the entrance of the security chamber.

  “Are you going inside right away? I don’t want to cause you any stress. We still have a radio connection.”

  “No. I need a pair of thick socks.” Marchenko points at his feet. Very cleverly, he has the nano-fabricators build an insulation layer. The electricity won’t be the only trick of the Omniscience, Gronolf knows, but at least it won’t work against Marchenko the way it affected him.

  “Adam and Eve want to wave goodbye, they say—whatever that means.”

  The camera moves from the door to Marchenko’s face. The two humans next to Gronolf move their right hands sideways. Marchenko returns the gesture.

  “Okay, I better start working,” Marchenko says.

  Gronolf witnesses him saying the general’s name in front of the door, then the transmission is interrupted.

  May 12, 19, Adam

  Ever since the connection to Marchenko was interrupted, Adam has been pacing up and down in the control room like a caged predator. Eve has asked him several times to sit down, but he simply can’t. He has to keep moving to distract himself.

  If they can’t observe Marchenko directly, then how about indirectly? There is just a teeny, tiny obstacle—the planet itself. If they were on the other side of the planet now—for instance, in the forest of walking trees—they could contact him easily. Not far from there they found the antenna in the ocean. Might it be possible to use that from here?

  Adam taps Gronolf on the shoulder. The alien’s right eye winks, so Adam must have caught his attention. Now he uses the arm display to draw the antenna they found months earlier. It takes a while, but then the alien seems to understand what he is trying to communicate. He jumps up, runs to the holo-map, and starts typing on the sector control panel. Then he moves his right load-arm toward Adam. Is that a sign of success? Adam comes closer, but he only sees a blinking dot.

  Gronolf uses the sector control panel again. The display changes. The 3D image shows the side of Proxima b invisible from here. An approximately fist-sized, cube-shaped object is approaching. With the naked eye its movement is not visible, but when Adam covers it with his hand for half a minute, he notices its position is slightly changing. It must be the Majestic Draght. From here the ship looks like a toy.

  Gronolf magnifies the image. Now the space ship is about the size of a human head. Adam walks around it once. It is multi-colored. At the rear, where the engine is located, it is brighter. The display probably indicates the intensity of the radiated energy. Gronolf must have switched the antenna in the ocean to pure reception mode. Adam remembers their excursion to the antenna. They were so full of innocent curiosity. But then Marchenko 2 tried to gain control of them. The alien antenna had seemed so elegant and had given them hope that they would soon solve the mystery of Proxima b.

  Suddenly a bright spot appears in the side of the cube. What is it? Adam turns around and looks at Gronolf. He has also noticed it, and he increases the magnification even further. However, no details are visible. The antenna must have reached its limits. What could have happened? Where does the spot come from? Might it be a sudden energy pulse? If only he could talk to Gronolf about it!

  “Eve,” he says, but when his sister steps next to him, the spot has disappeared.

  “Energy,” Gronolf says in English.

  Adam has already realized that. Can’t Gronolf tell him more? But he is being unfair, Adam realizes. It is just that all the waiting around makes him crazy. Perhaps the Omniscience just vaporized Marchenko. If so, they will never find out. However, then it really doesn’t matter, as they will all die in a few hours.

  Eve puts an arm around his shoulders and pulls Adam closer.

  Eve is right, he thinks. We shouldn’t spend our last hours alone.

  May 12, 19, Marchenko

  There is nothing but static from the audio channel, yet Marchenko doesn’t mind at all. No matter what happens now, he will have to react fast. Nobody can help him, and knowing that Adam and Eve are observing events live is a distraction. He definitely does not want them to see him die. He feels well prepared, but he will only know afterward how things went.

  “General Dukar,” he says to the panel left of the door. This time it works. The general is granted access. There is a clacking sound somewhere behind the door. Marchenko only has to give it a slight push and it swings to the left. He uses the wall as cover and beams his sonar through the opening. The reflected sound waves give him an overview of the room behind it.

  The snapshot confirms it: As Gronolf feared, this seems to be the defensive position set up by the Omniscience. The airlock he has to reach is located at the rear wall of the room. In front of it, twelve differently shaped machines await him. Only one of them has anything resembling a weapon.

  Marchenko glances down at his body. It would be hard to tell what he is capable of. Should he simply march inside and ask for an audience with the Omniscience? No, that would be testing his luck too much. He will neutralize the twelve robots using limpet charges.

  Marchenko leans his back against the wall and moves his left arm into the room, allowing the door to cover the rest of his body. Then he snaps his hand downward. The barrel of an air gun appears at his wrist. He will shoot at the twelve targets indirectly. His ammunition consists of small spheres, about the size of ping-pong balls. They are considerably heavier, due to the explosive filling, but the
y also easily bounce off hard walls.

  Marchenko aims for the part of the wall he can see. He knows the positions of the robots, and the rest is just classical physics—Newton. What, he wonders, was the name of the Grosnop who discovered these laws on their world?

  Marchenko fires. The first ball flies, then his arm moves slightly and the next one is on the way. It takes just three seconds. Click-click-click... the balls rapidly bounce off the wall and zoom toward their targets at different heights. Marchenko sends a radio impulse to change the surface of the balls. Now they will stick to whatever they hit. The target farthest away gets the first ball. Marchenko can’t see exactly where it hits, but it must have been approximately at waist height. Shortly afterward the other balls impact. Marchenko triggers the explosive. There is a loud bang. He has used a charge that is calculated to destroy humanoid robots. A dust cloud spreads through the room and also comes outside. He once again activates his sonar. Eleven of the robots are down.

  However, the twelfth one is running through the door, directly toward him. It is incredibly fast. The enemy moves on all fours like a dog, a very long dog, almost a giant dachshund without a head, and it does not even reach as high as his waist. Perhaps it was located on a platform and the echo of the sonar did not see this flat target. Therefore the twelfth ball must have missed it.

  The opponent might weigh about as much as Marchenko himself. He can’t use the explosive balls at such a short distance. Marchenko’s mind analyzes his enemy’s potential weaknesses. The connection between the body and the limbs looks vulnerable, but so does the long body itself. The robot dog leaps at him. The jump is precisely calculated. Marchenko can’t stay on his feet. He starts swaying and falls. Tshyort vosmi! I thought I couldn’t be knocked over.

  Everything happens within seconds. His brain is working at full speed. Suddenly that thing is above him. There are blades that work like chainsaws on the back of its legs. The animal wants to dig these sharp points into several spots of his body. He won’t have time to destroy the limbs, so he will have to attack the body itself.