Maxwell's Demon Ch. 15-21

Disclaimer:

This is a work of fiction. All characters are legal adults and over 18.

Foreword:

My hope is to entertain and learn about stories, and I am grateful for all who have shared their time. Thank you.

A note on tech: There's been some different feedback on tech, as used in the story, and I promise irritating the reader was not my intention. Chalk it up to inexperience and incompetence. I've tried to balance things out more, we'll see how I did. I wanted to make the story close to current technology, that is why there are no laser guns, for example. I hope that's not too disappointing. I was trying to imagine what it would be like to go to Proxima b with what we had, only fixing the problem of distance and travel time.

I wondered about whether to make Proxima b tidally locked or not. It's fascinating to imagine a world where there is a thin line of longitude where anything could live, the border between the night/day side -- but the weather seemed like it would be crazy with all the superheating and storms, so I decided against that. I also wondered how well a species could evolve without easy and regular timekeeping -- the notion of a 'day'. What would you use for time on a tidally locked world if you were just a beginning life form?

There is some sex suggested in this installment, but the remaining two sex scenes are toward the end of the story, and they aren't human on human.

A recap from Chapters 12-14:

Crippled in orbit around Proxima b, the crew of Maxwell's Demon assessed what the ship's status meant for their mission. An investigation was launched into the cause of the navigation failure, with sabotage being one of the possibilities. The problems they faced were a hole in the reactor wall, and a loss of cooling fluid from the unplanned tumble through the violent flare of Proxima.

They decided to attempt repair of the breach in the reactor wall using the repair crawler, despite the fact it required the reactors to be shut down -- and that was not possible. Jennifer volunteered for EVA to the Drive-Ring; the repair partially succeeded, and the crew started their scientific studies in orbit of Proxima b. They discover a habitable planet, and sentient life, pre-radio.

The dedicated thought models that controlled the reactor plasma began issuing complaints that their control schemes were not operating correctly. Shortly afterwards, temperature warnings arrived for the reactor, though they didn't make sense when considered with other system data.

While investigating the system malfunctions, Kassy discovers the Drive-Ring Telemetry has been tampered with and confronts Jennifer. Having eavesdropped earlier on a secret message Jennifer listened to, Kassy surmises Jennifer has taken advantage of a real reactor malfunction, to orchestrate another false emergency, one designed to convince the crew to abandon ship for certain, allowing her to marshal their assistance in a search for her Father. Jennifer believes he is on the planet below. There is no guarantee the reactor wall repair will hold, nevertheless, the two women reach an agreement: Jennifer signs all her corporate funding over to Kassy, to give her anything she wants if she makes it back to Sol, notably, a human avatar, in exchange for not revealing to the crew the hacked reactor readings.

The crew attempts to verify the reactor emergency by sending external probes outside the ship to take hull temperature readings; however, Kassy doctors the readings up to continue the illusion of the reactor temperature creep. With no better data available, the crew concludes they're losing fluid, and calculates their survival chances for a trip home. The scenarios are grim, with the only real chance of success being if one person alone returns. Jennifer tells them of an atmospheric reentry craft under development by CoreX, and that they will not be marooned on Proxima b forever. The crew decides the adventure of trying to survive planetside is preferable to dying, asleep in a stasis chamber. They send Kassy back for help, to let Earth know they made it, and at least return the science data they did collect.

They take The Raphael down to the planet, a primitive life boat, capable of winged flight. Their landing does not go as planned, and they come up short, forcing them to hike through mountainous terrain to reach what they hoped was alien civilization, and their best chance to survive. They are attacked by hyena like predators that seem intelligent and stalk them the entire way. After a near deadly battle, they detect a techno signature for an alien vehicle coming up the ravine. They holster their weapons and prepare for first contact.

** Chapter 15: First Contact **

At the edge of vision, in the twilight before Proxima's night, a haloed and pale yellow beam struggled through the moist air to paint the alien terrain. A tinny internal combustion engine echoed from rocks in the valley walls. An agricultural tractor of Earth's past, traveling on large circular wheels with a cylindrical forward section and a rectangular open-air cabin crested a hill. Midway between the axles, and past the rear of the vehicle's frame rested a flat cargo area with rails -- and aliens.

"Look at the thermal signature on that thing; whatever they're running burns hotter than a hydrocarbon, a powdered metal, maybe," William said.

Four figures stood on the vehicle, two on the front cabin, and two in the back deck. Two held sighting glasses; all wore heavy furs. They were bipeds as the crude infrared images retrieved from orbit suggested, constructed in a five node structure as a human was: two arms, two legs, and a head. If the furs were clothing, they didn't care for the cold.

The aliens carried weapons, and they looked uncannily like Earth crossbows. Jennifer would be the first to get killed, she owed the crew that.

"Stay here," Jennifer said.

The vehicle stopped. Two at the rear exited, one armed, and both taller than Jennifer, perhaps 1.8 meters in height. One stood near the vehicle, its weapon aimed at Jennifer. The second wore cold weather headgear, and its approach was casual, until it was three meters away. It made a sound she could hear, more than a grunt or a growl. "I hue ko ui," was the best she could make out.

She took her headgear off, a gesture of vulnerability another sentient creature would recognize, she hoped. The alien in front of her turned to its armed companion. "Kiamo!" it said.

"Kiamo niu e kau," its companion replied.

Jennifer thought she heard the same utterance twice; surely this meant Greg's software could make progress.

"Hello," Jennifer said.

"Kiamo", "Kiamo" the aliens said to each other in unison. In the vehicle, the two aliens standing in the flat structure at the rear gestured in an animated fashion to one another. Jennifer couldn't make out the alien faces, they had protective gear on, but if those were eyes, they were large, and she was being watched closely.

"Wuku kiamo la kena nono," the alien operating the vehicle said. The alien in front of Jennifer waved its hand in a circle. It had fingers, four of them. The digit where the pinky should be was twice as thick as a humans, as if doubled up with the ring finger. The alien next to the vehicle lowered its crossbow.

The frontmost alien pulled away its goggles, showing stereoscopic eyes evolved for a very different world. Solid reddish-brown in color, and with no sclera, it was impossible to tell where it was looking. It had eyelids, and it blinked, scruffed up its skin -- or fur -- then pulled off its head covering.

Everything looked black with the minimal light remaining, but dimly seen, the alien had hair that continued down its back, like a mane on an Earth horse. There was a nose, not human, smaller, and more subtle. An animal-like muzzle contained its jaw and nose with darker colorations surrounding it and the eyes. The alien had powerful teeth, and the face it made -- that Jennifer took for dismay at the cold -- revealed pointed incisors, large and exaggerated, as one might find on a cat. Thick protective clothing covered its chin, and there was little visible of the alien's anatomy beyond its plantigrade feet. If this was show and tell, then Jennifer decided to risk taking off a glove.

"Let's see the hands you built that off-road machine with," she said, taking her glove off.

Greg was bent to one knee behind her with a virtual keyboard projecting onto his pants, furiously typing. She heard him say over her neckband's ad-hoc network, straight into her auditory nerve, "I've got a language model live, it's trying." The last part of his sentence was interrupted. She heard sounds from the hill where the howlers launched their recent attack. Burning through their limited and unreplaceable ammo to survive another was a losing proposition, not to mention it carried the unknown consequences of showing deadly force in front of their new hosts.

"Kyapu," the alien said.

"Kyapu lu linikupu," the alien behind it said, raising its weapon toward the hill.

The alien in front of her put its glove and hat back on. It held its bigger fourth finger out and made a motion toward the vehicle, then toward Jennifer. "Nue," it said.

"Jennifer, nue?" she said.

"Nue," it said again, making the same gesture, and taking a step away from Jennifer, toward the vehicle.

"Nue," was echoed by both aliens in the vehicle, who began making the gesture as well.

"I'm guessing that means come. Let's go, single file, best behavior and all," Jennifer said to the crew.

She took a step toward the vehicle. The alien seemed satisfied she understood and made no more efforts at communication. It walked toward the vehicle at a hurried pace. On the platform mounted to the vehicle were two metal bars running its length. The second alien who boarded tapped the bar to show Jennifer that she should hold on as it did. The copilot leaned against a box structure that encircled the cockpit, scanning the hillside with its weapon.

"Kina," the co pilot said. They started moving, turning around, and heading in the direction the crew had intended to march, toward the tech signature they'd spotted from orbit.

"Is it me, or does anyone else get the impression our hosts and the animals that attacked us have an ancestor down their evolutionary tree somewhere?" William said over the ad-hoc network.

"I could see that," John said.

"I have three words the model is working on, based on hit count and physical pointing they did. We need to interact a lot more to get anywhere. John, if you're willing, I have something we can try that will use your enhanced neckband interface. It will take advantage of your sight, and notice things like when they pointed at the hill. Try to watch them when they are talking. That is how I picked up East and West. It may ask you to choose between A B hypotheses based on what you see. It's not a sophisticated model; it'll likely annoy the hell out of you, but if you can endure it, it'll help," Greg said.

The vehicle trundled along at its slow pace with no further conversation among the crew. The three aliens beyond the driver were concerned with watching for animals to the left and right. They carried their weapons high, frequently gestured to one another, and rarely made audible sounds.

The descent leveled out into a town with overhead power cables, artificial lights, streets with horse-like animals, and buildings made from mineral alloys, scattered in varying density across the ground. They stopped in a flat area surrounded by a fence. It looked like a colonial mining town from an Earth history book.

-*-

"Anukina," one of the aliens said, gesturing its arms toward the town. Greg entered 'new world' into the model. An alien from the surroundings approached, walking into the fenced area as though expecting the group's return, including the crew of Maxwell's Demon. It was surrounded by six smaller aliens, three on its left, and three on its right. None were armed. The smaller alien's clothes were ornate, with fine weaves and patterns: strings and buttons, stripes and swirls; green was a prominent color. They wore no headgear, and had different facial features than the aliens seen so far.

Greg thought the first aliens they met seemed female in comparison, based entirely on human cues, such as a heart shaped facial structure, softer chins, and fuller lips. They did have lips, he noted, when their vicious teeth weren't on display. The large eyes were a shared feature among all. As a category, the smaller aliens were less alike with respect to themselves than the larger. Their skin color varied, the directional ears were shaped in varieties, their muzzles were longer, and they lacked marking and coloration around the jaw and eyes. A different species, race, or sex -- Greg did not know. He called all of them Centaurans in the language model.

The Centaurans in their vicinity all held arms to their abdomens in greeting to the arriving Centauran. They took turns speaking and pointing at members of the crew. Greg made out the word "kyapu" repeatedly, strengthening the association for the Hyena-like howlers that attacked the crew. The language model was sure of it, and so was he. From discussion of the animals, and the pointing to his sidearm, he entered wi into the dictionary for: weapon.

"Ewuwu," the visiting Centauran said, then left with two of the smaller aliens, leaving four joined into a group with the crew. The smaller Centaurans each selected a member of the crew to stand near. Greg stood alone. A lone alien from the retrieval vehicle's crew approached him and said "Nira, come", gesturing to the pilot of the vehicle. The software had a suspicion the alien who'd just spoke, if they had the concept, was named "Litra" based on its recordings.

Nira approached. She was shorter than Litra, and had green eyes, unlike all Centaurans he'd seen so far.

"Nira?" Greg said, facing the alien. Nira held hands with blunt, shiny black claws to her abdomen in greeting.

"Greg," he said, pointing to himself.

"KreK," the alien said, pointing at Greg.

The smaller Centaurans directed the crew toward a building, touching and shoving them with no fear of contact. Nira maintained her distance, only gesturing to Greg. They were herded into a warm building, though during the hike in the high gravity, body heat had never been a problem. He was exhausted. There were stools inside. That's what they looked like. He really wanted to sit on those stools.

The crew unloaded their carry sacks into a pile by a table. Aliens were clumped against walls or lying on the floor, occasionally two propped against one another. The smaller aliens pulled William, Jennifer, Sarah and John until they sat at a long table. Nira was guard-like in her disposition. Had Greg been singled out as the one likely to cause trouble, so much so that he needed a special escort? Litra left to retrieve mugs of liquid from a serving counter.

Nira sat, and gestured to the stool across from her saying "Poku Krek." The word meant sit. The language model knew it, having seen someone sit while using the word via John's optical integration. Greg upvoted the mapping.

The mugs Litra returned with had thin and light liquid in them. "Wao," Nira said, along with William's alien cohort.

"William, you think we should try to analyze this stuff? Will they freak out at our equipment?"

"We have to do what we have to do," William said. He poured a bit of the liquid on his fingernail, and tilted a drop into the sample chamber.

William's alien cohort pointed to the device and said "uku" which Greg's neckband translated as "What?" William answered "spectroscope," and the small alien displayed a crinkled snout saying, "spscope."

"It's mostly citric acid, with mineral and organic compounds. I'd look at it under a microscope before I drank it," William said, staring at John. Immediately after William gave his analysis, John took a drink. Greg wanted to ask how it tasted, but the smirk on John's face told him the answer would be the same as when he ate the kyapu in the mountains.

He chuckled, remembering a high school biology class where the teacher had deep fried grasshoppers caught from a field next to the school. There was an educational purpose to the exercise, long forgotten. Some students ate the grasshoppers, but Greg did not -- until one of the girls did. His masculinity threatened, he immediately tried one. It tasted like steak, which forever ruined steak. From then on, he felt it was a scam; because he knew a deep fried grasshopper tasted the same. He took a drink of the wao to ensure his masculinity remained.

Nira, perched across from him, presented eyes that were a wall of green. He could see changes in the coloring, as if there was something under the surface, but he was hesitant to stare too long. The group engaged in show and tell, encouraged by their smaller alien escorts. They pointed at tables, glasses, stools, and body parts while speaking. There were fifty words with statistical evidence for correctness stored in the language model. Greg tried out the translation going the opposite way. He said table, cup, and chair, hearing the corresponding translations. He pointed, trying his hand at the odd, but not difficult alien pronunciation. Nira said, "ei," after most, and perhaps laughed at one. That was yes, the model assured him with mathematical zeal.

Exhausted from the two day ordeal with his injured ankle, he announced, "I'm going to pass out on the wall," and Jennifer nodded, her expression admitting she had no better ideas. Greg made an attempt to excuse himself to his alien host. All he could come up with was his name and the word wall.

He gathered his sack and went to a blank section of the perimeter, lowering himself to the floor and making a vertical pillow from his carry pack. He strapped everything he cared about through loops and buckles, in and out of his pants. Despite being completely surrounded by the unknown, he passed out instantly.

-*-

He woke with a headache, the kind one suffered on a spring day cursed with allergies. His body was attacking every particle it had breathed in, touched, or tasted, sounding the alarm for substances it had no idea what to do with. He looked around; Earth Standard it was 16:03.

"Well, we haven't thrown up yet from our samping of local food or drink," Greg said to John.

"No, but I did have one hell of an upset stomach, cost of entry I guess."

"You'd think aliens stopped in here all the time given our reception. They've left us alone with our weapons and assigned us translators -- with little apparent surprise on their part. Unless we want to go back to the wilderness, I assume we choose to stay here, in this town? What was it they called it: Anukina?" John said.

"What will we do if we stay here: live on their generosity, barter?" William said.

"Do not mistake their generosity for altruism. They may be friendly, but to use John's term from the wilderness, they are the apex predator here, and they will not be fools to have risen to the top of their food chain. They've identified some value for us, otherwise they'll quickly move us along -- or kill us. No successful species emerges by being wasteful with their resources," Sarah said.

"Brutal, but true. Our priority is to survive and find a way to communicate with low orbit when the time comes," Jennifer said.

"I doubt we're going to generate wages with physical labor in this gravity; maybe after we adapt, we'd be on par with the smaller aliens. We need to watch and see what their roles are," William said.

Greg sighed. "Curating this damn database looks like it's going to be my new full time desk-job, so I'm making executive decisions with the language model pronouns. Object to them now, or stone they are. There are three, maybe four different appearances at play here among the aliens. I'm dubbing the larger aliens females; they look like a cross between a hyena and a human female; tell me I'm wrong. I don't understand how we've been greeted with so little surprise either. I wonder if it's possible they think we are from some far off land. Imagine meeting Asians or Africans for the first time if you were an American Indian."