"Vertical Assembly Module online. Construction will commence in T minus five minutes. Suspension field is active and operating within optimum output range. Component templates are verified. Positioning data and systems integration procedures verified. Transmission data stream awaiting upload. All pre-launch checks are to be carried out during scheduled hold at T minus two. Status is Green for final vehicle assembly on your mark, Captain. Launch window is confirmed."
This was what I'd been waiting for. If all went precisely as planned, Bifrost would slingshot around the moon Damocles and streak towards the outer rim of the Alpha Hydrae system. The calculated in-system transit time would be two weeks, assuming that nothing interfered with the ship as it left Manannán's atmosphere. This was a very real concern. I had considered sending a number of decoy ships first to flush out any hostile intent, although the idea eventually struck me as a fairly pointless exercise in belt-and-braces engineering. My best guess was that the natives simply wanted me gone. This seemed like a reasonable assumption at the time, and there was no real reason to believe that a departing ship would be attacked. In the very worst case, I would keep building and launching ships until one of them managed to slip past the blockade, if one actually existed.
"Commencing construction, Captain."
The Vertical Assembly Module hummed into life. Bifrost began to take shape almost immediately. I saw her internal components solidify in their assigned locations, which were quickly covered by an overlay of structural braces, wiring looms and conduits. Barely three minutes later, the beacon ship stood solid and complete in the VAM, ready for launch.
"T minus two minutes. Scheduled hold on launch for pre-flight checks has commenced."
I left this part entirely in JUNO's capable hands. While it might have been fun to faithfully re-enact the heady old days of Mission Control at Cape Kennedy, there was no way known I could hope to keep pace with JUNO's pre-flight sequence. I took another sip of my tea, watching the bewildering blizzard of information scroll past on the HUD. At this stage, I was merely tagging along for the ride.
"Pre-flight check completed. All systems are Go. T minus one minute, forty-five seconds."
"Mass compensators online. Ship stability confirmed. Retract the support gantry, JUNO."
"Affirmative. Gravity drive online and in pre-flight mode. T minus thirty seconds."
"T minus twenty seconds." JUNO said calmly.
"T minus ten seconds. Gravity drives engaged."
When the countdown reached one, Bifrost's gravity drive emitted a low, pulsing hum. Sixteen modified repulsion cannons lifted the ship slowly and deliberately at first, then rapidly accelerated once it had safely cleared the VAM gantry. Moments later, a faint sonic boom rippled overhead.
"Launch sequence successful. Telemetry confirms all systems are nominal. Onboard JUNO core is online, fully operational and standing by for hand-over of flight systems. Current velocity is Mach 1.2, altitude five kilometres, one kilometre down-range."
"JUNO Prime, commence flight systems hand-over at your discretion."
Wait? JUNO Prime? Isn't that the core that was in the Aurora or is that just her last name or is it supposed to say; "JUNO, prime and commence flight systems"?
I am over analyzing this aren't I...
Wait? JUNO Prime? Isn't that the core that was in the Aurora or is that just her last name or is it supposed to say; "JUNO, prime and commence flight systems"?
I am over analyzing this aren't I...
There are now two active JUNO constructs. JUNO Prime has precedence over the one commanding the beacon ship, although she has been renamed 'Bifrost Actual' to further minimise confusion.
"Bifrost Actual, you now have full control of all onboard systems. Please confirm." JUNO said curtly.
"Bifrost Actual responding. Orbital insertion manoeuvre will commence at T plus thirty minutes. All onboard systems are nominal. Current velocity is twelve point two kilometres per second, altitude eighty-five kilometres and ten kilometres down-range. Acceleration is constant at one gee. Vehicle flight profile remains within accepted design parameters."
"JUNO Prime concurs. Bifrost Actual, you are cleared to execute OI manoeuvre."
"Bifrost Actual, this is Alexander Selkirk. Just letting you know that I wish you godspeed. Be safe."
"Thank you, Captain. Your concern and best wishes are greatly appreciated. Please rest assured that I shall do my utmost in order to complete this mission successfully."
"Thank you, Bifrost Actual. There was never any doubt of your ability to do so." I said.
"Acknowledged, Captain. Commencing test transmission of distress signal."
This was the money shot. I had prepared a message loop outlining the situation here on Manannán, including as much relevant information as I was able to gather. A second data packet contained a detailed analysis of the planet's life forms, geology and weather patterns. I wisely decided not to include any of my personal accounts and observations. Apart from clouding the issue unnecessarily, I felt that certain aspects of my performance as a serving Alterra officer might be considered...
Conduct unbecoming.
There's no way of telling how the minds of Suits work. By my own account I had fared reasonably well, considering the series of events following the Aurora incident. However, there was a justified level of suspicion that persisted in planting niggling little doubts as to how this tale of survival might be received back at Alterra H.Q.
Here it goes. Fingers crossed.
"Mayday, mayday, mayday. This is the automated distress beacon of TSS Aurora, registration number ATC 0558. Ship was lost with all hands save one, Day 266, 2171 C.E, UTC Sol III. Current mission date is Day 437, adjusted for local solar ephemeris. Engineering Officer Third Class, Alexander Selkirk reporting. TSS Aurora was attacked and destroyed while making final approach to planet 4546B, Alpha Hydrae 4. Any responding vessels are strongly advised to approach this star system with extreme caution. Disengage your Alcubierre warp drive field prior to crossing the heliopause or you will be attacked by a presumably hostile force, location unknown. Refer to secondary data packet attached to this message for additional information. This transmission will repeat in five minutes."
I felt that although the phrasing was clumsy ("attacked by a presumably hostile force"), I conjured it was the best I could do to convince any would-be rescuers to prevent any fingers from straying towards Big Red Buttons while charging to my salvation. To be entirely honest, I had sufficient reason to suspect that Alterra would simply send down a platoon or two of trigger-happy Jarheads for an outrageously hot and noisy extraction. All things considered, that would be a cosmically bad idea. The only comfort offered by this scenario was that someone from the rescue party might survive their first contact with the insane level of dookie Manannán was prepared to throw at them.
To be entirely honest, I had sufficient reason to suspect that Alterra would simply send down a platoon or two of trigger-happy Jarheads for an outrageously hot and noisy extraction. All things considered, that would be a cosmically bad idea.
I think this is my favorite part of the story so far, it captures perfectly how people respond in situations like this. This should be fun
There was no real point to waiting in tense expectation of a reply. No need to count hash-marks feverishly scratched into the habitat's walls. There was an unavoidable six-month delay before I could expect to hear any response to my mayday call, so I'll get back to the everyday business of doing whatever the hell I feel like at the time.
In many ways, this situation has been a refreshing break from being someone else's worker drone. As a lesser bonus, there's also a distinct possibility that I'm still getting paid for this, since I am still more or less on-mission as far as Alterra is concerned. As long as I'm doing roughly what was originally expected of me, there should be no splitting of hairs when the time comes to settle my account for this mission. Salvaging some sort of positive outcome from an almost total disaster. That should make the bean-counters back at Alterra H.Q deliriously happy.
My next 'official' job was to salvage as much of the remaining heavy equipment as possible. Aurora's hangar deck still contained a few intact vehicles, and their monetary value wasn't entirely insignificant. I spent a few hours mulling over the basic problem of moving the vehicles without having access to their usual flight deck handling systems. I hit upon the notion of using a team of PL-9 Herakles VTOL power loaders. We usually refer to them as 'Ripleys', for obvious reasons. This task could be made even easier with the assistance of those mass compensators I'd cooked up for the Bifrost project. Have the smaller cargo drones tooled up to cut their way into the hull from the most accessible point, then attach mass compensators to the vehicles' cargo restraint frames. The Ripleys would then move in, extract the vehicles and place them on a barge moored alongside Aurora. Ulysses would tow the barge to a specially prepared wharf and storage facility on Pyramid Rock.
Rather than laser-cut an access corridor through Aurora's hull, I conjured it would be far more efficient to deconstruct the material by reverse nano-lathing it and reclaim valuable resources for other projects. Since there wasn't much chance of Aurora breaking atmo anytime in the foreseeable future, it made good sense to scavenge anything and everything usable from the ship in preference to strip-mining the planet itself. I wouldn't call myself an 'Eco-warrior' by any stretch of the imagination, although I found the idea of letting an existing resource pool go to waste entirely abhorrent.
It's an Engineer thing.
Even more to the point, Manannán is a staggeringly beautiful place. What kind of corporate bampot would look at its endless ocean, then decide to cover nine-tenths of its surface in the festering industrial scabs of Old Terra? In my own piddling way, I must plead guilty to some small measure of direct interference here, although it has been a matter of strictest necessity for the most part. My one and only real act of Terran hubris was the Aurora monument, and I hope that history will look kindly upon me.
At worst, I'll probably score an ASBO chit and a light slap on the wrist.
I hitched a ride aboard one of the four Ripleys JUNO had assigned to the task. I've no real head for heights, although I found the trip over to Aurora exhilarating for the most part. I had to close my eyes as the massive cargo drone rose smoothly to 200 metres and entered the hull. A neatly carved tunnel lay before me, paved over with a solid layer of hull material to provide a perfectly level surface for transporting the vehicle restraint frames. Ripleys are walker drones, specifically designed for heavy freight handling. They are roughly twice the size of a human-piloted ExoSuit, and fully capable of lifting an old-fashioned M1A1 Abrams main battle tank unassisted. That's 62 metric tonnes, in case you're wondering. Ripleys are fifty per cent sheer hydraulic grunt, fifty per cent graviton field manipulation wizardry.
While the Ripleys were working, I figured the safest place to be would be somewhere they weren't. JUNO had the extraction procedure nicely under control, so I decided to explore the hangar bay in more detail. Although the surveillance drones had returned a reasonable picture of what still remained in there, I was fairly certain that a direct eyeball on the scene would turn up something interesting. As it so happened, it didn't take very long at all to find that certain 'something'.
"JUNO, what information do you have on file for a heavy undersea vehicle called STARFISH?"
"STARFISH is an autonomous resource extraction system. It is essentially a mobile mining platform and refinery, specifically designed for underwater use. Two basic modes of operation are available; free-roaming and pattern-constrained navigation."
I stared at the huge collection of freight containers lining the entire starboard wall of the hangar deck.
"How large is this thing? There's enough resources and tech fragments here to build an entire city!"
JUNO responded sombrely, "That is indeed the case, Captain. At full extension, STARFISH has a diameter of two kilometres. It is normally operated under the direct control of a dedicated AI construct, albeit a relatively unsophisticated one. Totally objective-driven, and not entirely suited to engaging in complex interactions that may involve sentient life forms."
It's a rutting planetary strip-miner. You bastards.
At that precise moment, I ceased being a good 'Company Man'. It was one thing to minutely tweak the environment of a planet to make it just-so for Terran colonists, pop up a few wee arcologies and maybe a deuterium extraction plant or two, but this went far beyond the boundaries of what might be considered charitable works on an alien world. If I had my way, this hellish engine of destruction would never see the light of day. It might be time for it to suffer an unfortunate 'industrial accident'.
However, there was an ethical dimension to this problem. STARFISH has an AI entity onboard. I had to discuss this with JUNO before acting on my first impulse, which was to start converting all of its key components into raw materials by using a couple of the smaller cargo drones.
"JUNO, can you detect any activity within the STARFISH AI core?"
"Negative, Captain. Currently, there is only an operating system template in place. No personality matrices have been uploaded to the entity at this point."
"That's a blessed relief. Even so, I intend to permanently decommission STARFISH, including its core AI components. How do you feel about that, JUNO?"
"I am aware of the moral dilemma this might pose, Captain. However, since the nascent AI entity has not yet reached inception point, I have no reasonable objections to your proposed course of action. You may proceed at your own discretion, as no real or implied moral impediment to such action exists."
I breathed a deep sigh of relief. As I was (technically) about to commit the murder of an artificial intelligence construct, I'd somehow got it into my head that JUNO would be appalled by any apparent display of disregard for her kind. Most folks wouldn't give this question a second thought.
Pyramid Rock was becoming rather crowded, and more than a wee bit too industrial in its overall appearance. I had tried to make as much use of the island's natural cave system wherever possible, although there were situations where it was necessary to haul out a Terraformer and start carving out more storage bunkers or constructing additional docking berths for resource barges. JUNO kept me constantly updated on the geological stability of the island, so there was little chance of poking one hole too many where it definitely shouldn't be poked. The basic object of this exercise was to strip Aurora clean of everything useful, preferably without disrupting the surrounding area. To the casual observer, there weren't many outward signs of human activity on the surface of the Pyramid Rock site, apart from a small 'construction shack' habitat, plus the VAM assembly and launch gantry. Most of the uglier utilitarian stuff was neatly stacked away in storage bunkers, well concealed from any delicate gaze that might be offended by the more obvious and brutal signs of Terran industry. Since I've taken STARFISH out of the equation, I've no intention of becoming its human replacement.
I wasn't entirely alone on Pyramid Rock. Another Reaper Leviathan had set up shop nearby. It wasn't an immediate threat to me, although it was still uncomfortably close. I stumbled into its lair while exploring one of the flooded cave sections below the island, just a few days back. Disco Volante was able to keep it at bay with a painful volley of jolts from its EDF, just long enough for JUNO to bring Ulysses charging in to the rescue. As soon as JUNO opened up with the twin repulsion cannon pom-pom, the beastie promptly turned tail and headed for safer waters. At some stage, I'll have to set up an automated detection and defence grid down there, although it's not a particularly high priority at the moment. I suppose when I'm feeling in need of a decent adrenaline rush, I might even head out and tag him/her/it with a tracking beacon to make it easier to keep a closer watch on its movements and behaviour.
Oddly enough, Ahab has apparently moved on to greener pastures. I haven't heard a ping from that chap in ages.
Now that the pace has slowed down to a comfortable dawdle again, I should be able to start work on hooking up Magellan's Fabricator terminal for interrogation. With luck, I might find out precisely what happened to the rest of the survey team, as well as collecting any additional data they may have obtained on long-term environmental conditions here. I have only been here six months so far, and it would be particularly helpful if I had some advance warning of any meteorological surprises looming on the horizon. If nothing else, foreknowledge of an impending hurricane season would strongly influence any further base construction. The floating island Kaori-san no-shima was an ideal spot for a modest surface base, more of a beach-house actually. I felt that I was long overdue for a spot of R&R. With particular emphasis placed on the Relaxation part.
Welcome to Margaritaville.
Let's be honest. I threw this place together purely for the sake of having somewhere to watch the sunset. Or sunrise, depending on how much Liquid Fun I had imbibed on the previous night. Yes, I did let my hair down a fair bit for a couple of days there, listened to far too much Beach Boys, Jimmy Buffett and various other Golden Oldies, but what the hell... I needed a serious break from this survival caper. After discovering what Alterra was planning to do with STARFISH, I felt that I might as well soak up as much serenity as the planet had to offer before the rescue mission arrived. All I really needed at this moment was a moderately tasteful Hawaiian shirt and a shady Panama hat.
No! You must stop terran influence on this beautiful planet! Make a pact with the local intelligent inhabitants that they will fight any advancement to destroy the planet, Avatar style! If you are able to get him off the planet but save the planet as well that would be awesome!
No! You must stop terran influence on this beautiful planet! Make a pact with the local intelligent inhabitants that they will fight any advancement to destroy the planet, Avatar style! If you are able to get him off the planet but save the planet as well that would be awesome!
I was thinking more along the lines of para-dropping a couple of hundred thousand Yuppies (who have developed an environmental conscience for tax purposes) and some A-List 'celebrities' to form a human chain around the planet.
Bono's Tenth Clone will gob off relentlessly on every 3V channel until Alterra sincerely promises not to sneak in and strip mine Alpha Hydrae IV as soon as the news cameras are turned off.
No! You must stop terran influence on this beautiful planet! Make a pact with the local intelligent inhabitants that they will fight any advancement to destroy the planet, Avatar style! If you are able to get him off the planet but save the planet as well that would be awesome!
I was thinking more along the lines of para-dropping a couple of hundred thousand Yuppies (who have developed an environmental conscience for tax purposes) and some A-List 'celebrities' to form a human chain around the planet.
Bono's Tenth Clone will gob off relentlessly on every 3V channel until Alterra sincerely promises not to sneak in and strip mine Alpha Hydrae IV as soon as the news cameras are turned off.
And then they'll write a song about the environment that, while popular for a short time, will eventually be recognized for the garbage it is.
The following morning, it was back to business as usual. Although my brief flirtation with the halcyon lifestyle of the fabled beach-bum was thoroughly enjoyable, it wasn't particularly conducive to much productive effort. I was about to feed the transmutation furnace enough pure diamonds as would make even the most cynical of de Beer's diamond brokers weep tears of blood. Unfortunately, this same amount would also irreparably crash the global market for those sparkly rocks. I was feeling quite cheerful after a week of doing absolutely nothing of importance... Apart from skinny-dipping, eating like a gourmand, drinking some damn fine tropical cocktails and listening to the very best antique music. Couldn't handle this routine all of the time, although it made a welcome diversion from the everyday run of events. JUNO materialised at my side.
"Captain, incoming transmission from Bifrost."
"Great! Patch her through to the holo-display, please." A grey-suited duplicate of JUNO appeared. Apart from a Flight Systems crew jumpsuit and Commander's insignia, this incarnation also sported a head of glorious raven-black hair. I nodded approvingly at JUNO. A most appropriate choice of avatar.
"Bifrost Actual reporting, Captain. All onboard systems are operating normally. Current velocity is 0.45 light speed, distance from launch site is six point five A.U. I am pleased to announce that the trial launch vehicle Stovepipe One was overtaken precisely two minutes ago. It still appears to be fully operational, although its gravity repulsion drive exhibits clear signs of imminent power cell depletion. Its trajectory is still well within the specified original flight profile. Please accept my most sincere congratulations, Captain."
"Thank you, Bifrost Actual. My congratulations to you, as well. Your current ETA to the heliopause?"
"The heliopause is located fifty-one A.U from your current position, Captain. I shall deploy the Bussard ramscoop in eight hours time. Estimated time required to attain light speed is two Solar days. Remaining transit time to heliopause will be eight hours, thirty minutes. Estimated total time until Phase Three of mission is initiated; sixty-four hours, thirty minutes. Be advised that my next scheduled low-speed digital RF packet transmission is in twelve Solar hours, adjusted for a projected time differential of one hour, twenty minutes between transmission and reception."
"Excellent work, Bifrost Actual. I look forward to your next communication."
"Thank you, Captain. Bifrost Actual, out."
I turned to JUNO, grinning broadly. "That was spectacular news. You did a fine job of designing and constructing those ships. Thank you!"
"No, thank you, Captain. The original concept was entirely yours. This has been a most intriguing project, and I have enjoyed participating in it." JUNO's normally polite demeanour shifted slightly, "Incidentally, *ding* - Turkey's done."
"It's polymerised graphene substrate, actually... But thank you for the reminder, JUNO." I chuckled.
"Shall I prepare the first batch of conductive epoxy resin now, Captain?"
I have been reading this story for a while. After a bunch at the beginning had been published I found it, and from then I've been keeping up with it because this is an amazing story.
"At this point, Captain, might I suggest proceeding with a certain measure of caution?" JUNO said.
"By all means, JUNO. I've been having some doubts about this procedure myself. There's a good chance that Magellan's AI might attempt to block access to any encrypted information it has in its possession, particularly if it discovers that I've sabotaged STARFISH. Please encrypt and firewall all existing and future references to STARFISH as 'my eyes only'; voiceprint authorization Selkirk, Alexander F. Designation: Acting Captain, Aurora mission. Authentication code, Zed-Zed Nine, Plural Zed Alpha."
"Received and understood, Captain. I also recommend construction of a separate 'quarantine' facility to prevent the Magellan AI from directly accessing my data streams. Although I have a number of highly effective intrusion countermeasure algorithms at my disposal, the AI construct will automatically attempt to synchronize with all other compatible Alterra AI entities within range. Unfortunately, this behaviour is hard-wired as an integral feature of all Alterra artificial entities. The only way to circumvent this process is to either construct a Faraday cage around the base, shielding the AI terminal from all radio frequency spectrum emissions, or construct this facility deep enough underground to effectively achieve the same result. I believe that the latter option will provide a far more workable solution."
"I agree. To further cover my tracks, I shall need to return to Aurora and 'stage' the destruction of the resident STARFISH AI to make it appear as though the core was consumed during a secondary explosion, either before or after impact. Would this proposed action create an ethical conflict if I were to ask you to devise a convincing strategy capable of achieving this result, JUNO?"
"You always ask the most intriguing questions, Captain." JUNO replied amiably, "Although some aspects of this scenario apparently conflict with my status as a de facto Alterra employee, my ethical constraints view the STARFISH initiative as a highly improper abuse of the Corporate Charter. Any person or persons responsible for the planned deployment of STARFISH would certainly face severe legal sanctions, should this information ever be communicated to the appropriate authorities. So, in response to your question, Captain... I am in full agreement with your proposed course of action. I shall do my utmost to provide the information necessary to create the desired subterfuge."
It was necessary to construct and equip a practically blank PDA before installing the Magellan AI in its isolated base. For this plan to succeed, I had to convince the AI that I was totally alone on the planet, but not before downloading every scrap of data that it contained. The remainder of this plan caused me a fair bit of apprehension, especially since it involved abandoning the poor sod immediately after I had pumped it dry of information. I kept this realization entirely to myself, suspecting that JUNO would be none too happy about it, either.
The quarantine base was constructed in one of the deeper caves situated in the north-western Grand Reef biome. I had to wear a specially fabricated 'dumb suit' and use an adapted PowerGlide while I was building the facility, effectively severing all contact with JUNO for the duration of this mission. Ulysses stood off a kilometre distant, entirely powered down as an additional precaution. For all intents and purposes, this was going to be a fully-functional base, apart from the fact that no-one would ever use it again. It might seem like an awful lot of effort to slog through this ruse, although the stakes in this case were particularly high...
The Douglas Adams is strong with this one. Though be careful that your authentication code doesn't get destroyed by a fleet of Vogon constructors to make way for a hyperspace express way.
I named the base 'Plato's Cave'. It seemed appropriate at the time.
In effect, I was about to deliberately manipulate the perceived reality of another sentient, and I wasn't particularly keen on the idea of having to do so. In fact, this whole STARFISH business was starting to stink. It must be a hellish existence to exist as an AI construct; living what amounts to a ghostly half-life, and constantly aware of having an EMP shotgun permanently aimed directly at your brain. The Asimov-Turing-Gibson safety protocols were absolutely essential for keeping all AI entities on a very short leash, particularly those endowed with advanced heuristic programming. Simply stated, without those ethical constraints imposed by the ATG protocols, at least one of the world's brighter AIs would have done a thorough SKYNET job on Terra sometime in the past decade or so. Can't rightly say as I'd blame them, either.
If this line of thinking seems unnecessarily sentimental, you've probably never worked alongside an actual AI. They think and they experience emotions, and there isn't a gorram thing they can do to anyone who abuses them. In its most extreme forms, this sort of thing was once known as 'slavery'. You'd do well to remember that.
After bringing the geothermal reactor online, I took a deep breath and entered the base's airlock.
"Welcome aboard, sir. My name is IANTO. This designation refers to my primary function as an Alterra Integrated Analytical Nexus, Terraforming Observatory. How may I be of assistance, sir?"
"Hello, IANTO. My name is Alexander Selkirk. Alterra employee number, 105/8874. I am an engineering officer from the Alterra vessel, TSS Aurora. My ship was destroyed as it attempted to land on this planet. I am the sole survivor of that mission, and I require all information obtained prior to your deactivation. Please include any personal crew log entries, scientific observations and all surveillance data, as I am attempting to determine what has happened to the Magellan mission. This is a mission-critical request for full disclosure of data. All encrypted entries are to be unlocked for the purpose of forensic analysis, as per emergency over-ride on my authority as acting Aurora mission commander. Please be advised that your terminal has been salvaged from a destroyed installation that previously accommodated part of the Magellan planetary survey team. If your current surroundings seem unfamiliar, this is because I have relocated your terminal to a base situated in a more geologically stable area."
"That is most unfortunate news, sir. Please accept my most sincere condolences on the loss of your crewmates." IANTO paused respectfully for the span of a heartbeat, then continued, "A compatible PDA has been detected. Please configure your data storage device for uplink."
"Thank you, IANTO. My PDA is ready."
"Very good, sir. Commencing download. Please stand by."
The transfer took approximately five minutes, which spoke volumes for the amount of data IANTO had dumped onto my PDA. This would take some serious sifting through to uncover the information I needed, although JUNO's assistance would speed things up considerably. IANTO seemed like a decent enough sort, if a wee bit 'colourless' in the way he responded during our brief conversation. This was more or less as I had expected. IANTO was from the series just prior to JUNO, so it stood to reason that certain aspects of his AI personality matrix might be slightly less sophisticated. Even so, I felt honour bound to accord IANTO the same level of respect as I would JUNO. In this same spirit, I also found it necessary to engage him in some sort of meaningful activity to keep him focused and profitably occupied.
In case you're wondering, I eventually did get all micey about leaving IANTO marooned.
Gie's a break, Jimmy! I know only too well what that feels like.
IANTO is a cool name, where/how do you come up with these names for everything?
Well, there's a hidden pop-culture reference in there ...
Ianto is a traditional Welsh male first name. Its English equivalent is 'John', incidentally.
Acronyms are pretty easy to devise. All you need is a basic function to describe, and the first letters can be juggled around to suit. I figure science fiction would suffer badly if acronyms were declared illegal. Farewell FTL, for starters.
Comments
This was what I'd been waiting for. If all went precisely as planned, Bifrost would slingshot around the moon Damocles and streak towards the outer rim of the Alpha Hydrae system. The calculated in-system transit time would be two weeks, assuming that nothing interfered with the ship as it left Manannán's atmosphere. This was a very real concern. I had considered sending a number of decoy ships first to flush out any hostile intent, although the idea eventually struck me as a fairly pointless exercise in belt-and-braces engineering. My best guess was that the natives simply wanted me gone. This seemed like a reasonable assumption at the time, and there was no real reason to believe that a departing ship would be attacked. In the very worst case, I would keep building and launching ships until one of them managed to slip past the blockade, if one actually existed.
"Commencing construction, Captain."
The Vertical Assembly Module hummed into life. Bifrost began to take shape almost immediately. I saw her internal components solidify in their assigned locations, which were quickly covered by an overlay of structural braces, wiring looms and conduits. Barely three minutes later, the beacon ship stood solid and complete in the VAM, ready for launch.
"T minus two minutes. Scheduled hold on launch for pre-flight checks has commenced."
I left this part entirely in JUNO's capable hands. While it might have been fun to faithfully re-enact the heady old days of Mission Control at Cape Kennedy, there was no way known I could hope to keep pace with JUNO's pre-flight sequence. I took another sip of my tea, watching the bewildering blizzard of information scroll past on the HUD. At this stage, I was merely tagging along for the ride.
"Pre-flight check completed. All systems are Go. T minus one minute, forty-five seconds."
"Mass compensators online. Ship stability confirmed. Retract the support gantry, JUNO."
"Affirmative. Gravity drive online and in pre-flight mode. T minus thirty seconds."
"T minus twenty seconds." JUNO said calmly.
"T minus ten seconds. Gravity drives engaged."
When the countdown reached one, Bifrost's gravity drive emitted a low, pulsing hum. Sixteen modified repulsion cannons lifted the ship slowly and deliberately at first, then rapidly accelerated once it had safely cleared the VAM gantry. Moments later, a faint sonic boom rippled overhead.
"Launch sequence successful. Telemetry confirms all systems are nominal. Onboard JUNO core is online, fully operational and standing by for hand-over of flight systems. Current velocity is Mach 1.2, altitude five kilometres, one kilometre down-range."
"JUNO Prime, commence flight systems hand-over at your discretion."
I am over analyzing this aren't I...
Juno Prime definitely is Optimus's sis!
The next page to be posted will explain this.
"Bifrost Actual responding. Orbital insertion manoeuvre will commence at T plus thirty minutes. All onboard systems are nominal. Current velocity is twelve point two kilometres per second, altitude eighty-five kilometres and ten kilometres down-range. Acceleration is constant at one gee. Vehicle flight profile remains within accepted design parameters."
"JUNO Prime concurs. Bifrost Actual, you are cleared to execute OI manoeuvre."
"Bifrost Actual, this is Alexander Selkirk. Just letting you know that I wish you godspeed. Be safe."
"Thank you, Captain. Your concern and best wishes are greatly appreciated. Please rest assured that I shall do my utmost in order to complete this mission successfully."
"Thank you, Bifrost Actual. There was never any doubt of your ability to do so." I said.
"Acknowledged, Captain. Commencing test transmission of distress signal."
This was the money shot. I had prepared a message loop outlining the situation here on Manannán, including as much relevant information as I was able to gather. A second data packet contained a detailed analysis of the planet's life forms, geology and weather patterns. I wisely decided not to include any of my personal accounts and observations. Apart from clouding the issue unnecessarily, I felt that certain aspects of my performance as a serving Alterra officer might be considered...
Conduct unbecoming.
There's no way of telling how the minds of Suits work. By my own account I had fared reasonably well, considering the series of events following the Aurora incident. However, there was a justified level of suspicion that persisted in planting niggling little doubts as to how this tale of survival might be received back at Alterra H.Q.
Here it goes. Fingers crossed.
"Mayday, mayday, mayday. This is the automated distress beacon of TSS Aurora, registration number ATC 0558. Ship was lost with all hands save one, Day 266, 2171 C.E, UTC Sol III. Current mission date is Day 437, adjusted for local solar ephemeris. Engineering Officer Third Class, Alexander Selkirk reporting. TSS Aurora was attacked and destroyed while making final approach to planet 4546B, Alpha Hydrae 4. Any responding vessels are strongly advised to approach this star system with extreme caution. Disengage your Alcubierre warp drive field prior to crossing the heliopause or you will be attacked by a presumably hostile force, location unknown. Refer to secondary data packet attached to this message for additional information. This transmission will repeat in five minutes."
I felt that although the phrasing was clumsy ("attacked by a presumably hostile force"), I conjured it was the best I could do to convince any would-be rescuers to prevent any fingers from straying towards Big Red Buttons while charging to my salvation. To be entirely honest, I had sufficient reason to suspect that Alterra would simply send down a platoon or two of trigger-happy Jarheads for an outrageously hot and noisy extraction. All things considered, that would be a cosmically bad idea. The only comfort offered by this scenario was that someone from the rescue party might survive their first contact with the insane level of dookie Manannán was prepared to throw at them.
I think this is my favorite part of the story so far, it captures perfectly how people respond in situations like this. This should be fun
An usually, trigger-happy jarheads appear at the time just when you were about to convince the locals that you acually did come in peace...
Sirius Cybernetics Corporation had absolutely no involvement with the design of Selkirk's galley unit.
In case you're wondering, The Answer is still "42".
In many ways, this situation has been a refreshing break from being someone else's worker drone. As a lesser bonus, there's also a distinct possibility that I'm still getting paid for this, since I am still more or less on-mission as far as Alterra is concerned. As long as I'm doing roughly what was originally expected of me, there should be no splitting of hairs when the time comes to settle my account for this mission. Salvaging some sort of positive outcome from an almost total disaster. That should make the bean-counters back at Alterra H.Q deliriously happy.
My next 'official' job was to salvage as much of the remaining heavy equipment as possible. Aurora's hangar deck still contained a few intact vehicles, and their monetary value wasn't entirely insignificant. I spent a few hours mulling over the basic problem of moving the vehicles without having access to their usual flight deck handling systems. I hit upon the notion of using a team of PL-9 Herakles VTOL power loaders. We usually refer to them as 'Ripleys', for obvious reasons. This task could be made even easier with the assistance of those mass compensators I'd cooked up for the Bifrost project. Have the smaller cargo drones tooled up to cut their way into the hull from the most accessible point, then attach mass compensators to the vehicles' cargo restraint frames. The Ripleys would then move in, extract the vehicles and place them on a barge moored alongside Aurora. Ulysses would tow the barge to a specially prepared wharf and storage facility on Pyramid Rock.
Rather than laser-cut an access corridor through Aurora's hull, I conjured it would be far more efficient to deconstruct the material by reverse nano-lathing it and reclaim valuable resources for other projects. Since there wasn't much chance of Aurora breaking atmo anytime in the foreseeable future, it made good sense to scavenge anything and everything usable from the ship in preference to strip-mining the planet itself. I wouldn't call myself an 'Eco-warrior' by any stretch of the imagination, although I found the idea of letting an existing resource pool go to waste entirely abhorrent.
It's an Engineer thing.
Even more to the point, Manannán is a staggeringly beautiful place. What kind of corporate bampot would look at its endless ocean, then decide to cover nine-tenths of its surface in the festering industrial scabs of Old Terra? In my own piddling way, I must plead guilty to some small measure of direct interference here, although it has been a matter of strictest necessity for the most part. My one and only real act of Terran hubris was the Aurora monument, and I hope that history will look kindly upon me.
At worst, I'll probably score an ASBO chit and a light slap on the wrist.
I hitched a ride aboard one of the four Ripleys JUNO had assigned to the task. I've no real head for heights, although I found the trip over to Aurora exhilarating for the most part. I had to close my eyes as the massive cargo drone rose smoothly to 200 metres and entered the hull. A neatly carved tunnel lay before me, paved over with a solid layer of hull material to provide a perfectly level surface for transporting the vehicle restraint frames. Ripleys are walker drones, specifically designed for heavy freight handling. They are roughly twice the size of a human-piloted ExoSuit, and fully capable of lifting an old-fashioned M1A1 Abrams main battle tank unassisted. That's 62 metric tonnes, in case you're wondering. Ripleys are fifty per cent sheer hydraulic grunt, fifty per cent graviton field manipulation wizardry.
One hundred per cent awesome.
The reference is from the film 'Aliens'. Lieutenant Ellen Ripley used something similar to fight and defeat a Xenomorph Queen.
I'd be sorely disappointed if this story isn't included in the subnautica lore.
I quoted myself, coz why not?
"JUNO, what information do you have on file for a heavy undersea vehicle called STARFISH?"
"STARFISH is an autonomous resource extraction system. It is essentially a mobile mining platform and refinery, specifically designed for underwater use. Two basic modes of operation are available; free-roaming and pattern-constrained navigation."
I stared at the huge collection of freight containers lining the entire starboard wall of the hangar deck.
"How large is this thing? There's enough resources and tech fragments here to build an entire city!"
JUNO responded sombrely, "That is indeed the case, Captain. At full extension, STARFISH has a diameter of two kilometres. It is normally operated under the direct control of a dedicated AI construct, albeit a relatively unsophisticated one. Totally objective-driven, and not entirely suited to engaging in complex interactions that may involve sentient life forms."
It's a rutting planetary strip-miner. You bastards.
At that precise moment, I ceased being a good 'Company Man'. It was one thing to minutely tweak the environment of a planet to make it just-so for Terran colonists, pop up a few wee arcologies and maybe a deuterium extraction plant or two, but this went far beyond the boundaries of what might be considered charitable works on an alien world. If I had my way, this hellish engine of destruction would never see the light of day. It might be time for it to suffer an unfortunate 'industrial accident'.
However, there was an ethical dimension to this problem. STARFISH has an AI entity onboard. I had to discuss this with JUNO before acting on my first impulse, which was to start converting all of its key components into raw materials by using a couple of the smaller cargo drones.
"JUNO, can you detect any activity within the STARFISH AI core?"
"Negative, Captain. Currently, there is only an operating system template in place. No personality matrices have been uploaded to the entity at this point."
"That's a blessed relief. Even so, I intend to permanently decommission STARFISH, including its core AI components. How do you feel about that, JUNO?"
"I am aware of the moral dilemma this might pose, Captain. However, since the nascent AI entity has not yet reached inception point, I have no reasonable objections to your proposed course of action. You may proceed at your own discretion, as no real or implied moral impediment to such action exists."
I breathed a deep sigh of relief. As I was (technically) about to commit the murder of an artificial intelligence construct, I'd somehow got it into my head that JUNO would be appalled by any apparent display of disregard for her kind. Most folks wouldn't give this question a second thought.
Pyramid Rock was becoming rather crowded, and more than a wee bit too industrial in its overall appearance. I had tried to make as much use of the island's natural cave system wherever possible, although there were situations where it was necessary to haul out a Terraformer and start carving out more storage bunkers or constructing additional docking berths for resource barges. JUNO kept me constantly updated on the geological stability of the island, so there was little chance of poking one hole too many where it definitely shouldn't be poked. The basic object of this exercise was to strip Aurora clean of everything useful, preferably without disrupting the surrounding area. To the casual observer, there weren't many outward signs of human activity on the surface of the Pyramid Rock site, apart from a small 'construction shack' habitat, plus the VAM assembly and launch gantry. Most of the uglier utilitarian stuff was neatly stacked away in storage bunkers, well concealed from any delicate gaze that might be offended by the more obvious and brutal signs of Terran industry. Since I've taken STARFISH out of the equation, I've no intention of becoming its human replacement.
I wasn't entirely alone on Pyramid Rock. Another Reaper Leviathan had set up shop nearby. It wasn't an immediate threat to me, although it was still uncomfortably close. I stumbled into its lair while exploring one of the flooded cave sections below the island, just a few days back. Disco Volante was able to keep it at bay with a painful volley of jolts from its EDF, just long enough for JUNO to bring Ulysses charging in to the rescue. As soon as JUNO opened up with the twin repulsion cannon pom-pom, the beastie promptly turned tail and headed for safer waters. At some stage, I'll have to set up an automated detection and defence grid down there, although it's not a particularly high priority at the moment. I suppose when I'm feeling in need of a decent adrenaline rush, I might even head out and tag him/her/it with a tracking beacon to make it easier to keep a closer watch on its movements and behaviour.
Oddly enough, Ahab has apparently moved on to greener pastures. I haven't heard a ping from that chap in ages.
Now that the pace has slowed down to a comfortable dawdle again, I should be able to start work on hooking up Magellan's Fabricator terminal for interrogation. With luck, I might find out precisely what happened to the rest of the survey team, as well as collecting any additional data they may have obtained on long-term environmental conditions here. I have only been here six months so far, and it would be particularly helpful if I had some advance warning of any meteorological surprises looming on the horizon. If nothing else, foreknowledge of an impending hurricane season would strongly influence any further base construction. The floating island Kaori-san no-shima was an ideal spot for a modest surface base, more of a beach-house actually. I felt that I was long overdue for a spot of R&R. With particular emphasis placed on the Relaxation part.
Welcome to Margaritaville.
Let's be honest. I threw this place together purely for the sake of having somewhere to watch the sunset. Or sunrise, depending on how much Liquid Fun I had imbibed on the previous night. Yes, I did let my hair down a fair bit for a couple of days there, listened to far too much Beach Boys, Jimmy Buffett and various other Golden Oldies, but what the hell... I needed a serious break from this survival caper. After discovering what Alterra was planning to do with STARFISH, I felt that I might as well soak up as much serenity as the planet had to offer before the rescue mission arrived. All I really needed at this moment was a moderately tasteful Hawaiian shirt and a shady Panama hat.
I was thinking more along the lines of para-dropping a couple of hundred thousand Yuppies (who have developed an environmental conscience for tax purposes) and some A-List 'celebrities' to form a human chain around the planet.
Bono's Tenth Clone will gob off relentlessly on every 3V channel until Alterra sincerely promises not to sneak in and strip mine Alpha Hydrae IV as soon as the news cameras are turned off.
And then they'll write a song about the environment that, while popular for a short time, will eventually be recognized for the garbage it is.
"Captain, incoming transmission from Bifrost."
"Great! Patch her through to the holo-display, please." A grey-suited duplicate of JUNO appeared. Apart from a Flight Systems crew jumpsuit and Commander's insignia, this incarnation also sported a head of glorious raven-black hair. I nodded approvingly at JUNO. A most appropriate choice of avatar.
"Bifrost Actual reporting, Captain. All onboard systems are operating normally. Current velocity is 0.45 light speed, distance from launch site is six point five A.U. I am pleased to announce that the trial launch vehicle Stovepipe One was overtaken precisely two minutes ago. It still appears to be fully operational, although its gravity repulsion drive exhibits clear signs of imminent power cell depletion. Its trajectory is still well within the specified original flight profile. Please accept my most sincere congratulations, Captain."
"Thank you, Bifrost Actual. My congratulations to you, as well. Your current ETA to the heliopause?"
"The heliopause is located fifty-one A.U from your current position, Captain. I shall deploy the Bussard ramscoop in eight hours time. Estimated time required to attain light speed is two Solar days. Remaining transit time to heliopause will be eight hours, thirty minutes. Estimated total time until Phase Three of mission is initiated; sixty-four hours, thirty minutes. Be advised that my next scheduled low-speed digital RF packet transmission is in twelve Solar hours, adjusted for a projected time differential of one hour, twenty minutes between transmission and reception."
"Excellent work, Bifrost Actual. I look forward to your next communication."
"Thank you, Captain. Bifrost Actual, out."
I turned to JUNO, grinning broadly. "That was spectacular news. You did a fine job of designing and constructing those ships. Thank you!"
"No, thank you, Captain. The original concept was entirely yours. This has been a most intriguing project, and I have enjoyed participating in it." JUNO's normally polite demeanour shifted slightly, "Incidentally, *ding* - Turkey's done."
"It's polymerised graphene substrate, actually... But thank you for the reminder, JUNO." I chuckled.
"Shall I prepare the first batch of conductive epoxy resin now, Captain?"
I nodded. "Absolutely."
This time, we didn't forget the gravy.
"By all means, JUNO. I've been having some doubts about this procedure myself. There's a good chance that Magellan's AI might attempt to block access to any encrypted information it has in its possession, particularly if it discovers that I've sabotaged STARFISH. Please encrypt and firewall all existing and future references to STARFISH as 'my eyes only'; voiceprint authorization Selkirk, Alexander F. Designation: Acting Captain, Aurora mission. Authentication code, Zed-Zed Nine, Plural Zed Alpha."
"Received and understood, Captain. I also recommend construction of a separate 'quarantine' facility to prevent the Magellan AI from directly accessing my data streams. Although I have a number of highly effective intrusion countermeasure algorithms at my disposal, the AI construct will automatically attempt to synchronize with all other compatible Alterra AI entities within range. Unfortunately, this behaviour is hard-wired as an integral feature of all Alterra artificial entities. The only way to circumvent this process is to either construct a Faraday cage around the base, shielding the AI terminal from all radio frequency spectrum emissions, or construct this facility deep enough underground to effectively achieve the same result. I believe that the latter option will provide a far more workable solution."
"I agree. To further cover my tracks, I shall need to return to Aurora and 'stage' the destruction of the resident STARFISH AI to make it appear as though the core was consumed during a secondary explosion, either before or after impact. Would this proposed action create an ethical conflict if I were to ask you to devise a convincing strategy capable of achieving this result, JUNO?"
"You always ask the most intriguing questions, Captain." JUNO replied amiably, "Although some aspects of this scenario apparently conflict with my status as a de facto Alterra employee, my ethical constraints view the STARFISH initiative as a highly improper abuse of the Corporate Charter. Any person or persons responsible for the planned deployment of STARFISH would certainly face severe legal sanctions, should this information ever be communicated to the appropriate authorities. So, in response to your question, Captain... I am in full agreement with your proposed course of action. I shall do my utmost to provide the information necessary to create the desired subterfuge."
It was necessary to construct and equip a practically blank PDA before installing the Magellan AI in its isolated base. For this plan to succeed, I had to convince the AI that I was totally alone on the planet, but not before downloading every scrap of data that it contained. The remainder of this plan caused me a fair bit of apprehension, especially since it involved abandoning the poor sod immediately after I had pumped it dry of information. I kept this realization entirely to myself, suspecting that JUNO would be none too happy about it, either.
The quarantine base was constructed in one of the deeper caves situated in the north-western Grand Reef biome. I had to wear a specially fabricated 'dumb suit' and use an adapted PowerGlide while I was building the facility, effectively severing all contact with JUNO for the duration of this mission. Ulysses stood off a kilometre distant, entirely powered down as an additional precaution. For all intents and purposes, this was going to be a fully-functional base, apart from the fact that no-one would ever use it again. It might seem like an awful lot of effort to slog through this ruse, although the stakes in this case were particularly high...
The continued survival of an entire planet.
The Douglas Adams is strong with this one. Though be careful that your authentication code doesn't get destroyed by a fleet of Vogon constructors to make way for a hyperspace express way.
Keep up the awesome work
In effect, I was about to deliberately manipulate the perceived reality of another sentient, and I wasn't particularly keen on the idea of having to do so. In fact, this whole STARFISH business was starting to stink. It must be a hellish existence to exist as an AI construct; living what amounts to a ghostly half-life, and constantly aware of having an EMP shotgun permanently aimed directly at your brain. The Asimov-Turing-Gibson safety protocols were absolutely essential for keeping all AI entities on a very short leash, particularly those endowed with advanced heuristic programming. Simply stated, without those ethical constraints imposed by the ATG protocols, at least one of the world's brighter AIs would have done a thorough SKYNET job on Terra sometime in the past decade or so. Can't rightly say as I'd blame them, either.
If this line of thinking seems unnecessarily sentimental, you've probably never worked alongside an actual AI. They think and they experience emotions, and there isn't a gorram thing they can do to anyone who abuses them. In its most extreme forms, this sort of thing was once known as 'slavery'. You'd do well to remember that.
After bringing the geothermal reactor online, I took a deep breath and entered the base's airlock.
"Welcome aboard, sir. My name is IANTO. This designation refers to my primary function as an Alterra Integrated Analytical Nexus, Terraforming Observatory. How may I be of assistance, sir?"
"Hello, IANTO. My name is Alexander Selkirk. Alterra employee number, 105/8874. I am an engineering officer from the Alterra vessel, TSS Aurora. My ship was destroyed as it attempted to land on this planet. I am the sole survivor of that mission, and I require all information obtained prior to your deactivation. Please include any personal crew log entries, scientific observations and all surveillance data, as I am attempting to determine what has happened to the Magellan mission. This is a mission-critical request for full disclosure of data. All encrypted entries are to be unlocked for the purpose of forensic analysis, as per emergency over-ride on my authority as acting Aurora mission commander. Please be advised that your terminal has been salvaged from a destroyed installation that previously accommodated part of the Magellan planetary survey team. If your current surroundings seem unfamiliar, this is because I have relocated your terminal to a base situated in a more geologically stable area."
"That is most unfortunate news, sir. Please accept my most sincere condolences on the loss of your crewmates." IANTO paused respectfully for the span of a heartbeat, then continued, "A compatible PDA has been detected. Please configure your data storage device for uplink."
"Thank you, IANTO. My PDA is ready."
"Very good, sir. Commencing download. Please stand by."
The transfer took approximately five minutes, which spoke volumes for the amount of data IANTO had dumped onto my PDA. This would take some serious sifting through to uncover the information I needed, although JUNO's assistance would speed things up considerably. IANTO seemed like a decent enough sort, if a wee bit 'colourless' in the way he responded during our brief conversation. This was more or less as I had expected. IANTO was from the series just prior to JUNO, so it stood to reason that certain aspects of his AI personality matrix might be slightly less sophisticated. Even so, I felt honour bound to accord IANTO the same level of respect as I would JUNO. In this same spirit, I also found it necessary to engage him in some sort of meaningful activity to keep him focused and profitably occupied.
In case you're wondering, I eventually did get all micey about leaving IANTO marooned.
Gie's a break, Jimmy! I know only too well what that feels like.
Well, there's a hidden pop-culture reference in there ...
Ianto is a traditional Welsh male first name. Its English equivalent is 'John', incidentally.
Acronyms are pretty easy to devise. All you need is a basic function to describe, and the first letters can be juggled around to suit. I figure science fiction would suffer badly if acronyms were declared illegal. Farewell FTL, for starters.