The Alien Creator

by Michael Miller

  ………We do not wish to harm you. Our mission is to save Creators and give them a new home. If you move away, we will not harm you……..

  As Zote waits for a binary response, everyone in the helm tenses as the message implications register. Moments pass before a digital reply comes back in similar machine language the robot understands and promptly translates into English. Zote explains as it explains the streaming computer codes.

  ………Attack on this imperial vessel is unwise. Our mission is bringing Creators back to help our civilization survive against unrelenting forces. If you move away, we will not follow. We do not return until this mission is accomplished. Fate of our civilization is at stake and your destruction is unnecessary……...

  Dr. Abraham gulps when the simple reply translated by Zote sinks in. "Tell them our weapons are very powerful. The one you encountered moments ago is not our most destructive armament. The next weapon will disintegrate your vessel."

  As Zote replies, Abraham gets news the base camp is intact and Creator is safe for now. He's saddened with news of heavy casualties though the enemy is defeated. Battlefield pictures are coming for the two types of robotic creatures. With that news, destruction of the enemy vessel is back on the table for the mission leader."

  "Get those pictures and route them to Zote," Abraham instructs the helm team. "I want them sent as proof of what they can expect, Zote. I want close-ups for the way these robots died. "Tell them we will destroy anything landing on the planet. The Creator belongs to us. If they resist, we will incinerate them."

  Once Zote collects the graphic information routed by Sergeant Major Bassett, then compiles pics and sends it to the aliens, everyone wonders how they'll react to horrific photos of spiders and leaders with gaping holes and spilling fluids.

  Several minutes later a new reply arrives, welcome relief to most. "Willing to withdraw if weapons are traded for Creator. Must return home with honor to save our culture," Zote reads the message. "The last Creator died in our care. We need your weapons."

  Abraham considers the unexpected reply, clear sign they don't want to fight after seeing the vivid photographs, perhaps negotiable and aware they can't guarantee the Creator would survive like before. "They made no threats and seem humbled by the pictures," he begins thoughtfully. "I believe we can meet their demand. Who disagrees?" he asks rhetorically. "They're looking for ways to kill an enemy, not us. It means we won't get their vessel but I'd be happy leaving here in one piece without them following us. Besides, more trophies aren't what we're about."

  "Zote, ask them how we can make the exchange? I want the Creator onboard before they get anything. Make it clear if they attack, we will destroy them. Let's propose leaving weapons on the surface."

  Chapter Forty-Two

  Returning Home

  hen the overall mission commander's spirited announcements come over the communication system days later for updates about recent events, loud cheers booming across Navi are testimony to the level of excitement and jubilation. Starting with good news before relating the sobering price of war, the elderly Abraham bares facts about dicey terms of the weapons exchange, distance between their foe, and status of the last surviving Creator. Extensive credit given to key players makes everyone proud of accomplishments, though details for a fatal brush with death make them humble.

  While the Andromeda space vehicle, designed and built by Creators and robots, blasts through the universe with imprecise years and months lying ahead, the daily business of survival and life moves along at snail pace. Finishing the extract and rebirth of the base camp environment that keeps the trophy alive, it's evident that Billy Goddard, Cyborg, and Zote carry the day for soothing the Creator's mental anguish and transition. Operating on similar wavelength Goddard brings human elements in ways giving the fragile being inspiration and hope about its future. Zote's explanation and endearing comments allow the alien genius images of at least one human with high intellect and compassion. Communication between the four entities becomes legend across the ship like rock stars. Medical teams, in charge of keeping the Creator alive, are intrigued by MRIs, body and brain scans, and IQ above known standards. Based on Creator input, scientists, and engineers are flush with new concepts, ideas, and projects from the most incredible being in terms of physics, mathematics, design, and engineering. Avenues for food supplies, nutrients, robots, artificial intelligence, and other fantastic topics elevate excitement making the long trip home less consequential. Advanced software helps recreate the Creator's internal parts easing burdens of body parts and functions.

  A large acrylic structure of resins and textiles abutting the science laboratory on level two mimics the high tech base camp abode to keep the Creator alive. Processed oxygen, soundproofing, and nutrients provide the young Creator a little piece of home. Meanwhile, medical and science teams split duties into subsets researching ways of replicating food supplies, understanding biological and physiological composition, and potential surgical procedures if needed. Internal medicine experts evaluating internal organs point to surgical procedures that might correct inherent deficiencies and mutations for lungs, cataracts, valves, and arteries similar to incestuous human traits. Closed nature of how Creators replace themselves through parthenogenesis or lack of fertilization via virgin birth leads experts to examine fish, reptiles, worms, and plants with similar processes. Unusual shape skull, flimsy limbs, limited vision, lack of need for companionship, love, humor, and sexual desire leads researchers down shocking paths. Changes over decades breeding out sexual activity could lead to discoveries for humans none imagined. They decide that Creators, like Komodo dragons, are able to reproduce either way. DNA models are underway to explain how their reproductive system works including an eerie similar nine-month pregnancy period.

  "How's our guest getting along," Abraham asks Goddard. "I hear he likes you. Zote claims you're the reason it's sharing information so readily."

  "Yes, he's an amazing creature, although I recommend we stop using the 'it' stuff, Dr. Abraham. The Creator is a scientist and engineer more than anything."

  "All right; what should we call it then? Does it have a name?"

  "No, Creators don't use names; they see no need. However, I told him about an alien invasion on Earth that helped explain why we use names."

  "What alien invasion?"

  Tongue in cheek, Billy responds. "Don't you recall the alien humanoid and fierce robot arriving on Earth to stop global nuclear war in 1951?"

  "I see," Abraham chuckles, "so he likes fictional movie characters from outer space."

  "I skipped the part about Gort and Klaatu being fiction. I was thinking Klaatu was the best name but it chose Gort instead."

  "Ok, Gort is fine with me, but how does he align with a monster robot? They're opposites in every way."

  "Yeah, but the Creator likes imagining being one of its own robotic creations. Creators are weak beings needing strength around them for protection and survival. It's an inferiority complex, I suppose."

  "The smartest being we know in the universe feels inferior? Go figure, but if Zote and Cyborg agree, then Gort it is, but don't ask me to be Klaatu. I like my name."

  "You're too old to be Klaatu, sir. I think of you as Professor Barnhardt."

  Three Years Later

  Daily activity continues with Navi's crew getting to the point of no end in sight. Whether they'd find the moving portal or face oblivion, it becomes a topic laced with sarcasm and water cooler jokes. However, rumors swirl one day that astronomers mapping the route home concluded data feedback indicates a potential location where conditions for portals is consistent. In other words, strong evidence of gravitational pull from entangled white and black holes is four-point-six million miles away.

  More analysis over the next week reinforces conclusions the time fold vortex is indeed approaching and requiring careful planning before entry. Though taking longer than expected despite experts in Cartesian coordinates and perturbative bosonic string mathemati
cs, Dr. Abraham's announcement they're weeks away from returning through the intergalactic hypergate renews deflated spirits. Most anticipate that once through the twisting spiral of hell, a phenomenon unlike anything, they'd be near home in the glorious Milky Way. With most ignoring staggering distances remaining upon successful exit of the portal, gaps measured in parsec, most care to forget the worst fate of hitting wormhole walls, much less the recovery time of extreme dizziness. Instead, optimistic glass half-full emotions and positive thoughts dwell on contacting loved using communication probes deposited billions and trillions of miles apart along the first leg of the journey marking a direct path home like Hansel and Gretel's trail of breadcrumbs. While finding Earth may be the proverbial needle in the haystack, feelings and excitement ramp as the crew begins re-training of safety procedures, protocol, and danger passing through nature's violent hypergate. Yet without the magnificent time fold, return is improbable.

  After three years of growth supported by medical skills, nutrients, and care substantially less advanced in Andromeda, the Creator grows into a mature entity. Scientists tap its brain and collaborate on technology, fascinated by the human captors. An unusual bond forms with Dr. Billy Goddard, the young phenomenon along with Zote and Cyborg created by its predecessors. Intellect and open mind give the Creator confidence about its future.

  "I want everyone prepped," Dr. Abraham urges staff in the situation room that includes Cyborg and Zote. "We may have been lucky the first time through the gate, so let's not get ahead of ourselves. The walls will tear us up, not to mention the impacts of excessive radiation and exotic matter. Several days inside the storm requires careful planning. Let's find out who handled the dizziness best."

  Abraham pauses while scanning conference attendees, most giving nods or grins. The unwritten rule that dissenters explain objections otherwise assuming he has general agreement. "All right, we'll expect to enter the vortex in about two weeks. Billy, where do we stand with research from the first trip through the portal? If we need more time, I want to know soon."

  "Zote, Cyborg, and I spent considerable time with the Creator studying vortex electromagnetic effects and centrifugal forces inside the tunnel or throat," Dr. Billy Goddard begins eyeing mostly older participants. "We concluded that decreasing pressure, perhaps no pressure at all, inside the massive funnel spiral is the key to entry and exit, thereby avoiding superstructure walls. Essentially, in the sweet spot particles are moving both directions at light speed. Originally, we assumed the orbital angular momentum, like corkscrews, was a key concern which turned out to be less important in the center."

  "What's it mean to us, Billy? How does it help us navigate inside the vortex and avoid the walls?" Abraham presses as Zote and Cyborg listen to the heady exchange.

  "Keep in mind, most of this information is new. Past theories and textbooks are useless in understanding what we face," Billy begins. "We now know that wormholes are built from integrated white and black holes. In fact, white holes, in particular, have no basis for existence. On the Milky Way side, we unwittingly entered the black hole portion that sucked us in. On this side, we'll be entering the white side that pushes or repels using exotic matter rather than normal matter pulling us. Therefore, light speed momentum and mass is critical to negate that effect since we'd be thrown or tossed back, probably hitting the walls. Once inside the tunnel, we'd boost power slinging out of the black hole that will invariably try keeping us captive. Speed and Navi's mass is what we need to survive at both ends of the candle."

  "Do you have mathematics or evidence backing up this claim?" Abraham presses the young genius.

  Using a three-dimensional hologram portraying the double vortex connected by a tunnel hovering above the conference table, Billy uses a laser pointer explaining relevant mathematics scribbled on various parts of the complex display. The superstar, crediting Cyborg and Gort, takes time reviewing several key formulas and graphics covering fractional linear transformations, string mathematics, hyperbolic half planes, and dizzying Euclidean manifolds. After the deep dive attended by key leaders hoping to understand the presentation, most are unsure of Billy's conclusions.

  "I can't speak for everyone, but I don't fully grasp what you're explaining," Abraham offers kindly. "Probably none of us do at this point." Stroking a gray beard and frowning, he pushes back. "Make it simple for us, Billy. If we miss the white hole's center what happens?"

  Delay due to implications of the dire answer, Cyborg steps in without hesitation or prompting. "Navi disintegrates, Dr. Abraham. The mission ends."

  "I guessed that much, Cyborg, and thanks for the straightforward answer. Ok then, how big is the target's center? Are we aiming for a big space or what? Give me the odds we can hit it without practice?"

  "The target is narrow, twenty or so miles wide, so laser markers must guide us," Billy recovers quickly. "Military has used this technology for a long time. I understand that missing the mark will mean total loss, but odds are better than trying to slide through like before. The vortex is a two-way street but lanes don't behave similarly."

  "Then for all practical purposes we're turning Navi into a smart bomb?" Commander Jocko says sarcastically; his tone suggesting the tactic has issues. "I can attest to laser accuracy, but that's based on spotters or triangulating satellites marking the path instead of rockets finding their own way."

  "That's not quite what we have in mind, Commander," Billy rebounds confidently. "We'd fire rockets ahead and follow them letting vortex results guide us. Problem is trailing the missiles close enough so we can pick the right one to be the best marker. Those hitting the center won't explode like the rest so that's the path we must take. It's our only chance; otherwise we're apt to become lost in space."

  "What rockets have these laser markers you're talking about?" he asks knowing they don't exist.

  "None; we have to design and build them, Commander."

  "Do we have folks that can make it happen in two weeks?"

  "Space weapons are my primary area of expertise at Global Space Company, Commander. Zote, Cyborg, Gort, and I will design what's needed. In fact, we've already started with conceptual, material, and design requirements."

  "Didn't Navi take this path several years ago? How did Cyborg and Zote find Earth?" Jocko rebounds straining to understand how this youngster, regardless of advanced degrees, is a credible weapon expert.

  "Commander, they stumbled into the Milky Way after decades searching for a new home. Once inside the galaxy they found classified deep space probes that led them to Earth. It was incredible odds finding us but they didn't use the time fold."

  "Let me get it straight," Abraham concludes, puzzled by the minor debate and information. "You'll be navigating Navi to follow the correct rail gun projectile that doesn't explode while moving behind them at high speed."

  "That's about it. Otherwise, we break up if we pick the wrong missile or don't have enough speed to break the white hole's formidable barrier."

  "Is this like one of your college video games played with drunken frat boys at the local beer hall?" Jocko chides the youngster. "We'll get once chance."

  "That's enough sarcasm, Commander," Abraham counters. "If you have a better idea how to get home, let's hear it; now's not the time for frivolity. We can't go around the time fold that'd take untold decades, possibly getting us lost in space. Granted it's safer going around but getting home isn't certain either way."

  Chapter Forty-Three

  White Hole

  ommander Richard Jocko, the ultimate team player who credits others for battlefield success, strains and sweats with a muscled rail gun team while the bulk of travelers secure themselves in designated seats across the multi-level ship. Jocko and six artillery members, working in the weapons bay donning oxygen tanks, tethers, helmets, kneepads, goggles, earplugs, and gloves, prepare to launch and reload as the thunderous weapon revs, rattles, and pulsates. Meanwhile, most aboard ship pray or close eyes hoping their journey isn't about to end catastr
ophically while others focus on family members and friends.

  In the helm, Dr. Billy Goddard maintains speed at the behest of Dr. Abraham as the skeleton crew aims at the spinning, angry, and colorful vortex. Thousands of miles from the moving, ominous target, Abraham gives the order to release bursts of retrofitted rail gun smart-projectiles recently equipped with laser designators mounted on nose cones. Able to send constant laser signals to the target, the helm crew watches and waits. Once a dozen projectiles appear on forward scanners, marked by laser beams screaming ahead at staggered distances and unequal spacing, Billy, Zote, and Cyborg monitor computer screens as rockets emit constant feedback calculating sobering countdowns. Meanwhile, Abraham considers when to ignite giant exothermic chemical boosters releasing ten million pounds of thrust and vaulting Navi's speed at the vortex. While an all or nothing gamble, Abraham is convinced it's the right strategy promoted by Goddard, Cyborg, and Zote, a trio of unmatched brains and logic.

  "Zote, engage boosters," Abraham says firmly. "Let's find out if this white hole theory holds water; shall we?"

  Coming on the ship intercom as Zote executes the command, Abraham updates nervous crew across the massive multi-level vessel with somber overtones.

  "Greetings crew members, we're now fully committed to our fate; booster rockets and main engines are pushing us toward the white hole, approaching light speed as we enter. If all goes as planned, we'll maneuver Navi into a soft spot where one of the guiding rockets doesn't explode on impact, clear indication the surface is penetrable. Pray for our trusted helm crew and friends to guide us. We'll see you on the other side; Abraham out."