Maxwell's Demon Ch. 12-14

V20 ...

It's gonna be rough guys ...

V10 ...

Brace! Brace! Brace!"

An eardrum crushing ring sounded through the cabin. Pneumatic dampening within the base of the capsule and its chairs hissed as they moved through their range of motion, taking a single impact and spreading it through two feet of travel in an attempt to reduce the sharp impact to something that wouldn't shatter a human skeleton. Crunching, and a high pitched screech of metal rubbing on something it wasn't meant to be familiar with filled the cabin.

Greg cried out in pain, before the wind was driven from his chest; something had impacted the man.

A sharp spike burst through the floor between the center console seat, slicing a nasty wound in John's arm. Blood streamed through his flight suit onto the control stick. The front right vertical window shattered, ejecting glass through the cabin, lacerating Jennifer's cheek leaving horizontal lines of blood blowing across her face from the damp, metallic smelling air rushing into the cabin.

The sounds of snapping vegetation and tortured metal were all around them. Mangled and hissing crash-damping shocks, crushed from sudden deceleration, leaked oil and nitrogen onto the floor of the craft.

"Contact lights, stabilizer struts are down ... they're not holding. Shit! Hang on ... "

A timid beeping was the only alarm the simple drop ship could muster. It was the ground angle alert. "We're gonna roll. Brace again!" John yelled.

There were four legs that dropped from the hull on touch down to stabilize the vessel. The leeward legs didn't find purchase on the steep slope. Raphael's nose lurched to the left before the cabin dropped sharply to the right. A sickening groan and hair raising pitches joined in cacophony as the metal exterior slid over jagged rocks. The entire cabin was upside down.

The left vertical window shattered. Black-green plant material penetrated into the cabin. An overhead instrument panel detached from its mount, dangling haphazardly by stretched wiring harnesses.

"Son of a bitch, my ankle," yelped Greg as The Raphael completed a full roll and returned upright, stopping at a twenty-eight degree angle.

"Greg! Are you alright?" Sarah yelled, struggling against the supply bin that had broken its tiedown on the initial impact. It was pinning Greg's ankle against the twisted and overextended shock strut of the crash chair.

"I think so, maybe. I don't think it's broken."

"I can feel the extra gravity for sure. Help me get this box off him," William said, grunting as he and Sarah struggled to move the rogue crate.

"... Raphael? Raphael? Your signal is weak. I tracked your flightpath down; you're short of target. What is your status?"

"Kassy, can you hear us? I have a feeling there's not much left of the high gain antenna, we took an unplanned roll."

"Barely. Please tell me if everyone is ok?" Kassy said.

"I think we made it with minor injuries," John said.

"Maxwell's Demon will be dark side, I'll lose your signal horizon in ten minutes. I'm deploying the GPS cubesat array. Do you want me to linger in another orbit?"

"No, Kassy. Conserve your coolant. Break orbit. Get help," Jennifer said.

"Understood. Good luck Raphael," Kassy said.

Jennifer wiped blood away from her face, unholstered her SX4 sidearm with her left hand and pushed hard to open the upper hatch with no further concern for atmosphere readings. "Outside temp 5C. If it's not breathable, I'd rather it just end quickly," she said.

** Chapter 14: The Apex Predator **

Air rushed into the cabin, moist, with a peculiar metallic smell. Jennifer raised her head into the alien atmosphere and was blasted by a strong wind from the west.

"It's w i n d y ... very windy. Sarah, give me your field meter." She yelled to be heard. "I want a baseline for x-ray and UV. If it's above tolerance limits for bare skin, we wear eye protection when we are in the open, keep your skin covered."

"Flare activity will change those numbers," William said.

"From what I see around the hatch, if there is wildlife, it's run off for now -- after we kicked up this little divot. Gather up the equipment near the hatch. We'll make a human ladder to get it to the ground," Jennifer said.

Greg's unbuckled boot betrayed the swollen ankle inside it. He struggled trying to remove the high-power radio module. "It's jammed in, I can't break the release rails free," he said. William tried pulling with Greg. The unit was thoroughly wedged in the control panel from hull deformation.

"Are we planning on coming back here?" Greg asked.

"Let's assume not anytime soon, carry everything we can," Jennifer said.

"The handheld radio will have to be our communications then, if it works. I don't know if I could carry the high power transmitter in my current state anyway," Greg said.

Wind whipped around the open hatch, making an eerie howling sound. Jennifer ventured onto the surface. She noted among the crew they had only three weapons. John's was something new, a perk from volunteering for ADXP special programs that yielded his neural link, perhaps.

"Remind me again what our friends look like?" Jennifer said.

"There were few overhead images. They're bipedal, maybe 1.5 to 2.5 meters tall based on shadows and IR. They run cooler than us. That's mostly guesswork, OK?" Sarah said.

"So try not to shoot anything with two legs if it looks intelligent," Jennifer said.

"That is one huge orb of a red sun, even behind the clouds," Greg said.

"It's not much bigger than Jupiter, you know. It's just that we're so close. Everything is so ... Red," John said.

"Our eyes didn't evolve with the same visual corridor Proxima starlight produces. You won't see much higher than green wavelengths here. We're red and green specialists, to tell the difference between ripe and not ripe fruit. I would operate with the assumption that you may not be able to see things this planet thinks you should," William said.

"I feel like I'm trapped in a photonegative world. I hope we get used to this, it's unnatural," Greg said, limping.

"I'm not worried about what the place looks like, this gravity is killing me," said William.

"Nobody is enjoying it at the moment," replied John, as he lifted supplies out the top hatch.

A warbling animal cry, like a wounded hyena carried in on the wind. It was the first sound they'd heard, and given the wind direction, was likely west of them.

"Anyone else hear that?" Sarah said.

"Dandelion theory of life," Willam said, "It's the default in the universe -- same periodic table, same building blocks, similar fitness functions. It yields similar solutions. I don't want to be anything's dinner though."

"We should distribute the critical supplies among carrying packs. Greater surface area if something should happen to any one pack," Jennifer said.

"Like someone getting eaten," Sarah said.

"Everyone gets one datapad. Break up the food containers. In this atmosphere we could pull water out of the air with the utility compressor if we have to. Greg, you carry the portable radio, we'll even the rest of the load out for you. Is there anything you want to distribute from your compute supplies?" Jennifer said.

"Some extra neckbands and repair chips. They don't weigh much, I'll carry the rest."

"Sarah and I will carry the spectrographs and terrahertz scanner," William said.

"Yet another item I find suspicious. A THZ scanner was on the Raphael? Either someone was throwing high dollar equipment in to fill a target budget, or they expected us to crash," Sarah said.

"Conspiracy or not, you'll be happy we have that THZ scanner when we need medical or food analysis," Jennifer said. "Try the cube satellite network, Greg, see if we can get positioning info."

"Kassy and I plotted a basic topographical map," John said. "We called that west tip on the range over there Broken Champagne because it looked like a champagne glass with the top broken. Well, it doesn't really look like that now that I'm on the ground. That one, way off in the distance, is triceratops, that's a keeper. That's where we need to head; we think civilization is there.

The saddle between those two points is our best route over the mountain range. If we get through, we turn left and say: Take me to your leader at that point."

"How many earth days are left in our current revolution?" Jennifer asked.

"About two," William said.

"And how many kilometers did you calculate for that, John?"

"Roughly forty, best guess over the proposed land route."

"That's going to put us in the high ground when it gets into Proxima twilight," Jennifer said.

"Nothing from the satellites, Jennifer. They may not have enough power for Proxima's noisy atmosphere. I set up a network for our neckbands, we'll be able to communicate over ground at least," Greg said.

"There's few spots that aren't cloud covered. What we did see seemed static, like Jupiter's Red Spot. Maybe the clouds will dissipate at night, if they do at all. What I'm saying is, it's likely to be very dark for three days," Sarah said. She knelt down and set about looking at Greg's ankle. "Stand straight, put your weight on it. Does this hurt? How about -"

"Ow, ya that hurts there."

"OK. Move your toe. Now sit down. It's not broken, you have a contusion and a sprain. We'll worry about that boot when the time comes." She helped Greg attach his carry pack, threading the straps through the items he wished to carry, and then did the same for herself.

There was snow on the ground. Jennifer's first steps reminded her of the Northeastern United States during a damp winter. John was right, the landscape did look odd, maybe a little cartoonish. Proxima's spectral qualities took away blues, yellows and white. She wondered what the natives saw when looking at the same scene.

"Sarah and William, what can we make from this biology and water?"

"The air matches inferred readings we took from EmDee. Increased oxygen levels, breathable obviously. There's plenty of aerosols in it. What they're doing to our lungs, time will tell. I can detect dust from elements for a planetary system of similar metallicity to our own. Water vapor, you can feel that -- and carbon based proteins, the stuff you'd expect for life to take hold," Sarah said. "We should take a broad spectrum antihistamine. We can head off whatever reaction our bodies may have breathing in compounds they've never seen before. Let's get the big question out of the way: What is the relevant protein winding, left or right? Are we going to starve like rats eating poison blocks down here, with bellies full of indigestible proteins?"

Lasers inside Sarah's spectroscope vaporized a piece of plant material and cataloged the resulting plasma's arrival and dispersal. "Some think there is selective pressure for left-hand proteins due to the spin from light used in photosynthesis, and some think there is pressure for that due to our unique location in the galaxy and universe; our collective spin if you will-"

"Sarah ..." Jennifer said impatiently.

"It's almost done. It's a fifty / fifty chance," Sarah said.

Greg removed a flight seat rail from the Raphael and fashioned a walking stick. He was struggling with his twisted ankle. "I heard what you were talking about. You can accuse me of being anthropic, but I think there's a reason for it, that if there was life, it would be like us in many ways. Life holds a familiar fractal pattern. On earth, trees branch in two, then in two again, and so on; structures are visible at the small and large scale. Look around, it's all both familiar and alien at the same time.

"Maybe you're right Greg. It looks like we got lucky. It's not rat poison."

"John, take point, you know where we're going. I'll pull up the rear. Eyes sharp, watch your steps, don't touch anything. Stay alive," Jennifer said.

"I'm calling them Proxipalms. They look like squat palm trees," John said looking at the abundant alien vegetation.

The crew needed to drop down to a trail below them, and that would involve a short rock scramble. Gray columns of rock, twelve feet high, rose in an outcropping to the right. The rock faces were splattered with dark greens and blacks, perhaps mold or mineral deposits. Sarah was commenting on the mineral formation she recognized before a growling, leaping mass of dark fur crossed Jennifer's path.

It caught Sarah's backpack rail, trying to snap her neck with powerful jaws. She'd seen it at the last moment, and ducked just enough to throw its attack off. Mauled by its passing claws, blood soaked through her ripped sleeve and she lost balance.

Greg stumbled. He drew his pistol, dropping his walking stick. His ankle failed. He fell ass first to the ground, fumbling to retrain his pistol on the target. The creature turned, growling to assess its missed prey. A caseless, silenced SX4 round penetrated its chest. Greg braced his footing and fired a second round through the animal's shoulder. Black fluid streamed from its slack jaw as its pierced lungs filled with blood, pooling below it. Its left paw reached forward in a useless step before falling lifeless to the rocks with its hind legs spasming.

"Guhrrrr whoo-eep!

Guhrrrrr whooo-eep!"

The sound came from above and to the right. Each call was similar, but also unique, like a signed howl. There was scurrying, and the sounds of claws clattering against rock. The hyena-like laughing they heard earlier was very close.

William, Sarah and John were crouched, with John in front looking up the outcropping.

"There's more, they're heading southeast ... the same way we need to go. I don't think this will be a one off attack," John said.

"Why the hell didn't you see them on infrared?" Jennifer said, glaring at John, breathing heavily, her own pistol drawn.

"Because it's fucking useless down here. I checked. I actually follow ADXP procedures," John said, closing his distance until he was in her personal space.

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"It means maybe if we'd shut the fucking reactor down at the first sign of problems we wouldn't be here," he said, directly in her face.

"I made a command decision with information I had," Jennifer said, her weapon hand shaking at her side.

"Maybe that's been the problem. It seems we're missing some information." John huffed, backing away to resume looking up the slope they were descending.

"Or maybe I should take point from now on?" Jennifer snarled.

"Jennifer, Sarah's arm, take a look," William said calmly.

Jennifer knelt beside her. They worked Sarah's arm out of its uniform sleeve. The sharp teeth had penetrated through her rotator cuff, all the way to the bone.

Sarah burbled guttural nonsense, wincing in pain, biting down on a pack strap Greg gave her to distract her from the pain. The sleeve was worth saving, these were the only clothes they had against the weather and elements.

Jennifer opened her field medical kit. It contained broad spectrum antibiotic foam. She sprayed the antiseptic and sealing foam over the lacerations and puncture wounds.

"They're stalking us, maybe thirty of them. I count eleven on this side. I was able to spot another fifteen, high on the other side. We're heading into trouble. That ravine down there, that's the pass saddle, exactly where we want to be, and probably where they do too. It looks like an easy hike after that, if we can keep our friends at bay.

I'll stay on point, three in the middle, eyes left and right, sharp ears," John said.

"Maybe those were the natives?" Sarah said.

"God I hope not," William said.

Jennifer retrieved Greg's makeshift walking stick. She returned it to him. "You obviously didn't forget to keep up your range certification, even with that desk job of yours."

"No. No I didn't," Greg said, expressionless. He took the stick without thanking her.

The ground snow disappeared in the following hour of descent. Greg had taken to walking on his foot sideways, he was barely keeping up. Approaching four hours of descent, and exhaustion, they reached a valley, a north-south passage east of the hillside Raphael had landed on. There was a feeble river, flowing with clear water, heading south.

"We'll take a break here, get some food and rest. This gravity is brutal. What do you make of our position, John?" Jennifer asked.

John held his datapad against the mountains in front of him, overlaying crude topographic data from orbital scans. The software adjusted a rendering angle in real time, matching a picture against the mountain peaks to the south. He swept from left to right, generating a rough triangulation.

"Fifteen, maybe twenty-five kilometers. We should be able to see whatever made the heat signatures we spotted from orbit soon, if we can just crest the hill, get a line of sight."

"I ran some tests on the water in that stream. There's particulates in it, bacteria. It's not a detailed analysis, but life is also cellular here from what I see, complex from simple, like us. Heating that to a sufficient temperature to kill the bacteria would make it drinkable ... I think," William said.

It was getting darker, slowly, subtly, not like Earth, but they were without a doubt heading toward twilight. Every seven hours was like one earth hour.

"Guhrrrrrrr whooo-eep, Guhrrrrr whoo-eep!" sounded from the hill behind them, the one they just descended. The sound was lost in echoes among the many rock outcroppings and foliage. The Proxipalms, as John had called them, made good hiding places with their extremely long and low to the ground dark-green leaves. Hiding places for things the crew would rather not be hiding.

"Guhrrrrrrrr whooo-eep!" Came from the other hill across the pass.

"It's like they're communicating," Greg said.

"Ya. You notice how unique each of those calls are? Like a name. Some kind of pack signaling. Those howlers were over there earlier, long before we reached the bottom. They coordinated with the creatures on this side. I don't think they know what to make of us," John said.

On the far hill, a group of three howlers started moving down the slope.

"Well, they've made their intentions known. They're testing us. Everybody up. William and Sarah, in the middle."

Two of the howlers started a full speed sprint down the hill. The third trailed behind, observing. They were fast, but not as fearful as plains predators on Earth. Perhaps it was the higher gravity, or a feature of the metabolisms on this planet to not burn energy so wastefully.

Jennifer would not be caught high this time. She dropped a knee for stability and took aim. They were presenting a partial broadside. John took two shots at a distance she wouldn't have dared try. His second landed true, dropping the animal. His weapon's report did not sound like her SX4 at all. Jennifer took her shot. She missed. She fired a second time, a hit. The howler dropped.

The third howler, quite casually, retreated back up the hill.

"Did you see that? The second and third, they didn't even flinch after the first went down.

They don't know fear. The caseless rounds are too quiet, they just kept coming. It's like they didn't know we were killing them," Jennifer said.

John stared into the distance through binoculars. He reached into his ADXP carry vest and pulled out a datanet neckband, different from everyone's. There was a portal for the bio implant in the back of his neck. He put the neckband on and adjusted the fit. He closed his eyes and winced in discomfort.

From the other side of his vest he pulled a three inch rectangular ceramic block. He shoved it into his pistol and installed a different clip, unlike anything Jennifer had seen.

"Thought model enhanced visual processing," he said, pointing to his neckband and drawing his unscoped pistol to aim with his right hand. "I'll show them fear."