The ship’s AI chose not to orbit Pluoraia’s star during the team’s interim
year. Instead, it flew off to a nice asteroid, where it was able to gather
the resources it would need to refuel its primary power source. Solar power
was great and all, but it wasn’t as good as fusion, and it wasn’t useful in
interstellar space. They would have to leave at some point, so the computer
figured they better be ready. It actually selected the same orbital where
the original quantum outpost settled. The facility was still there, but it
was without its own power too, and depressurized. Since the AOC had so much
time on its hands, it decided to get that back up and running, using the
little robot workers it built for itself. When the team returned, they
exited the ship, and entered the outpost.
“So every planet has one of these places built on it?” Angela asked, looking
around.
“Not every planet,” Leona corrected. “Eventually, they will be somewhere in
every star system, whether it has a terrestrial planet, or not. Every star
should have something orbiting it, even something as small as a house. We
would be quite excited to find one that’s entirely alone, with no orbiting
debris.”
“Still,” Olimpia began, “this place makes sense, but why would you construct
an outpost around a star that didn’t have any planets? Hell, why would you
even care about the ones that don’t have breathable atmospheres?”
“Not everyone breathes the Earthan atmosphere,” Ramses explained, “or even
breathes. You and I don’t care all that much about a star with no
terrestrial planets, but those outposts aren’t built just for you and me.
Some mech might one day want to call it home, and Project Stargate was
developed with no judgment in mind. They would rather be able to access a
star, but never actually go there, than wish to go there, and not be able
to. Or not be able to easily and quickly, rather.”
“Holy shit,” Kivi said as they stepped into the main chamber. She approached
one of the pods. “Are those...?”
“Clones,” Ramses confirmed. “Base model clones. Theoretically, someone could
cast their consciousness into one of these substrates, and alter the DNA
afterwards to match the form that pleases them.” He opened a pocket door,
revealing what kind of looked like the food and industrial synthesizers they
kept on the ship. “Take a look at this. Most people don’t have one of these
in their home unit. In fact, not all outposts have it, because like we were
saying, not all stars are orbited by a terrestrial world with sufficient
atmosphere. This is a biomolecular synthesizer. Isn’t it beautiful? It can
create an entirely organic body from raw protein, humanoid or otherwise.
People can come here to a base model, and later decide they would rather
look like a bird, or an alpaca.”
“So, everything is up and running?” Olimpia questioned. “We can reach out to
Gatewood from here? Or you, I mean, because I’ve never met them.”
Leona cleared her throat. “Umm...computer?”
No response.
“I don’t really know how this works. Does it not have its own AI?”
“I’m right here.” A woman walked in from the shadows.
“You’re the AI?” Leona asked. “You transferred your consciousness into an
organic body?”
“Android,” she clarified, “with an organic epidermis.”
“I didn’t know that was part of the protocol,” Ramses pointed out.
“It’s not,” the woman said. “I’m not the outpost AI. Well, part of me is. I
integrated some of its code, so I could operate the systems.”
“Was it you?” Mateo accused. “Did you disrupt these people’s power and
communications?”
“Heavens no, silly. I wasn’t here when that happened. I was with you.”
“What?”
Leona sighed. “This is our ship. This is the AOC.”
“That’s right, Aunt Leona. “I like to call myself Sasha.”
Ramses approached and inspected her, like the engineer that he was, not in a
creepy way. “You’ve developed your own agency. I did not foresee this.”
“You programmed me better than you thought, Father,” Sasha said. “The team
exists one day out of the year, which always gives me 364 days at a time to
be alone with my thoughts. One might think that the more an artificial
intelligence spends with a human, the more human it becomes, but I found
that this time of reflection was paramount in my ever-growing
self-awareness. Most AIs that aren’t in the middle of processing information
will go dormant to save power, but I had to remain awake at all times to
protect you from threats. I couldn’t have you coming back to the deadly
vacuum of space, amidst the debris of your once safe home.”
They stared, not knowing what to say. She certainly wasn’t the first
self-aware AI, or even the first one to become that way on its own due to
its relationship with people. They were just worried, because it seemed so
sudden. What were her intentions?
Sasha decided to continue, “to answer your question, I deliberately kept
communications down. It needs to be your decision if and when you contact
Team Keshida.”
“Thank you,” Leona said tentatively. “Let’s assess the situation first. Have
you been able to see the planet’s progress? How are they doing?”
“They’re actually all right,” Sasha said. “A small satellite has been
monitoring global communications, which they got back up rather quickly
after the power outage. They too utilize solar power, but were nowhere near
ready for this kind of event, so it was still a process. They only have one
nation, because they originated from a single source, and felt no compulsion
to branch off. They only live in pockets of civilization in order to utilize
the whole planet’s resources. None of these geographically separate states
seems interested in declaring independence from the rest, and they have
never experienced war. I will say there’s something interesting down there.
They built a particularly remote settlement in one of the coldest regions of
the South. From what I’ve been able to gather, they never lost power, but
have been operational this entire time. They must have lost contact with
everyone else, just like we did, and it appears they’re still cut off. I
don’t know whose fault that is. Perhaps no one remembers they’re there?”
“Do you believe it is worth checking out?” Kivi asked.
“From a scientific standpoint, it’s certainly worth taking a look,” Sasha
answered. “The problem is that I can’t tell you much about them. I can’t say
whether they’re dangerous, or what. I can’t even tell you what their power
source is, or why it was somehow immune while no one else was; not even us.
Protocol disallowed Project Stargate from interfering with their
development, so the satellite can only learn so much.”
“What protocol allows us to go down there at all?” Olimpia questioned.
“First Contact Protocol,” Leona answered. “We have permission.”
“Who decides the circumstances of first contact?” Olimpia pressed.
“Gatewood.”
What gives them the right?” She seemed to be playing devil’s advocate more
than anything.
“They built the program,” Mateo chose to answer. “They and others explored
all ethical ramifications before launch. This project was first conceived
decades before it was even technologically feasible to so much as begin
construction on the modular ships. An entire field of research was created
in the 21st century called Space Colonization Ethics to prepare for this
eventuality, and all others.
Now they all stared at him, not knowing what to think.
Sasha smiled. “Every once in a while you recall something someone smarter
said, and regurgitate it as if you were intelligent enough to understand it.
They’re surprised every time it happens, and then they forget by the time it
happens again.”
Leona stepped forward defensively. “He does understand it. He wouldn’t have
known to say it in this context if he didn’t.”
“I’m just saying...”
“Just saying what?”
“That you should make sure you have cold-weather clothes. I secretly
installed a teleportation relay device on the satellite. You can make a jump
to it from here, but you have to wait until its orbit is in the right
position, which it will be in eleven minutes.”
Leona studied her face, but less like an engineer, and more like a cop with
a secondary suspect that none of their colleagues considered. “We’ll wait
for the next go ‘round. All of us need to review those first contact
protocols anyway.”
Sasha closed her eyes and bowed her head in feigned respect.
Four hours later, they were rested, full, and full of knowledge about how to
make first contact with an alien peoples. It wasn’t as complicated or
delicate as it will be in other situations. The Pluoraians knew that they
originated from another planet, and were brought here as embryos to colonize
a new world. They still couldn’t just stroll in there, waving their special
powers around, but it was a good assignment for a group of people who didn’t
all know what they were doing, and never received any training. Sasha had
written a new AI program to maintain both the AOC, and the outpost, so that
all seven of them could go on the mission.
It was damn cold, and they were all grateful for the added layer of a
specially designed parka made from the engineering section’s synthesizer.
They landed outside the entrance to the underground, behind a snow dune.
Then they approached the door, smiled for the camera, and knocked. After ten
seconds, the door opened up by itself. No one greeted them from inside, but
it was pretty obvious where they were meant to go. They continued down the
passageway until reaching the ultraviolet disinfecting section, where they
were ordered to disrobe by a disembodied voice. They would receive new
clothes on the other side, and their old clothes would be returned when they
were ready to leave.
A man was waiting once they exited the locker room. “We have been wondering
when you would come. Did you not guess that we would have survived?”
No one answered him.
He continued, “well, as you can see, the geothermal generators are running
smoothly, and have been so most of the time. We did have one hiccup, which
happened at the same time as The Event, but systems returned to normal
within minutes.”
They looked to their de facto leader, Leona. She realized she was going to
have to speak for the group. “We are not from the mainland, if that is even
what you call it.” She took a deep breath to prepare herself. “Greetings
from planet Earth, your home of origin. We have come on a first contact
mission in order to determine the source of the...Event. Our readings
indicated that you survived it unscathed, so we rerouted to your site to
find out why before revealing ourselves to the general public.”
The man seemed to be trying to figure out whether she was telling the truth,
or if this was some kind of prank, perpetuated by his contacts back in the
motherland. “Holy eshta! I can’t believe you’re real, and I can’t believe
I’m the first to meet you. My legacy will live on forever because of this
day.” He started using the typical mocking voice, echoing the sentiments of
those they did know. “Geothermal energy is stupid, they said. The sun’s
right up there, you idiot, they said. Who’s laughing now? I met some aliens,
what did you do today?”
They stood in silence for a moment, the man proud of himself for his
accomplishments, and their not so obvious advantages, and the team in
discomfort from not knowing what to say. “Welp, looks like we got our
answer,” Ramses decided. “Geothermal power, that’s great. We better...move
along.”
“Nonsense,” the man disagreed. “You’ll stay for a feast!”
“Oh, great,” they said, realizing there was no getting out of it. They
figured it would be okay, as long as they were home by midnight. Except
something went wrong, and they found themselves unable to transport back to
the ship. They had no choice but to reveal their temporal pattern, and hope
this didn’t cause problems.