Maxwell's Demon Ch. 15-21

"Makes sense. Have you seen anything you can work with?"

"Not yet. You and John have the only two locals around as contacts. Those females, Nira and Litra, you think they could help us?"

"Maybe. I asked Nira if she would help me after she gave me this caution about not leaving town without careful thought. She gave me this coin, said it would get me back here. Maybe she meant all of us. I can't say. I don't understand their currency."

William eyed the token. "Impressive. I didn't get that caution from Mion and Kleok. About all they said was we'd be heading into another town, speaking of which, there they are."

The crew loaded their belongings up. Outside was full Proxima daytime. They walked to a train station and a waiting steam engine.

"They say on Earth the standard gauge of early railroad was equivalent in width to two horse's asses, because the tooling was adapted from the horse and buggy. Check out those pack animals, the ones that look like squat spineless Stegosaurus, what do you think?" William said.

"Ya, I could fit two of them in this track," Greg said, welcoming the simple humor.

While other Centaurans deposited slips or coins, Mion simply waved his hand to the conductor, who wore a pashmina, but not of green color like their hosts. It was a dull brown. Curious, Greg took a picture of the decorations the train master was adorned with and phase shifted the color up the visible light spectrum. "Well, this isn't good. We're going to be a bit slow when it comes to understanding signs around here. Look at how much stitching and coloring there is near, and below the bottom of our visible red spectrum," he said, showing the altered photo to William.

"Shit. You're right. I've made some progress decoding their language from the cards we picked up at the tavern, but it hadn't occurred to me to look for wavelengths I can't see. I'll have to start doing that."

The undercarriage shuddered, hitches took up slack against the pull of the engine. They gained speed following the tracks curving southward, beginning a downward slope. A powerful west wind pushed the train car body sideways as they finished the curve. Greg took one final look at the mountains to the north before they were no longer visible through the glass. Somewhere on a hillside in those mountains lay a crumpled tin can from Earth, and the high power transmitter he so desperately wanted.

Forty minutes in, kilometers of steel structure could be seen on the right side of the train. There was water, rock outcroppings, and a lighthouse. The trees were not the Proxipalms John dubbed the growths in the mountains, but truly odd looking horizontal trees. They grew in arches, alone or in bunches, in courtyards, over buildings, in all shapes and sizes. Their common characteristic was they always had two bases into the ground. The leaves were thin, long and fern-like; they made elegant sweeping oscillations in the wind.

"Centipede trees!" Greg said.

"Not bad. I might let you have that one," John said, rubbing and massaging the back of his neck. His forehead was tense. "I was going to call them pipe cleaners, but I like yours better."

"We could actually learn what the natives call them," Sarah said.

"They are wiupi," Mion said, figuring out what they were talking about from their pointing, or he knew more English than suspected.

The train was slowing. A road laid to the left. Centauran horses, carts, tractors, and Centaurans, lots of them, walked to and from buildings along walkways. Farther inland was a circular structure like a stadium.

"Is this like your cities, maybe yes, maybe no?" Mion said.

"Not like these," Jennifer answered him.

"Where does the train go next?" Greg asked Mion.

"Far to the next city. Those you see, they return home, mostly. Or entertainment here," Mion said.

They walked along a path next to the road. The air smelled like wet leaves and burning wood. Waves lapped and crashed against breaker walls, but the water couldn't be seen; it was blocked by the long rows of buildings abutting the shore. It took Greg a moment to get his land legs after the rocking motion of the train. He was adapting to the higher gravity; the light headedness when standing was subsiding.

Two Telluki females and five males walked near them and stopped. The first female said hello to William and gave him a card, like the ones they were given earlier in Anukina.

"Thank you," William said in Centauran, then turned to Greg: "I figured this out."

"Oh?"

"It's not giving you their phone number as we might say on Earth. They are clan oriented. It's like a business card. I can't read them yet, but I think it's a proposal to join their clan because we are not wearing any colors. The card is a potential contract, it lists reasons to join."

Mion led them through a fenced open sky courtyard. There were armed Telluki in uniform outside. Green flags adorned the exterior of the building, draped from high walls above. Greg recognized them as the same color and insignia worn by their hosts; he was not surprised when Mayana came to greet them.

Jennifer pulled Greg aside. "You said you were working on a beta version of our language model, one that uses morphology breakdown to dynamically translate. Can we use it now?"

"You wanna try it now, untested, in front of their supreme leader?"

Jennifer pursed her lips in annoyance. "I'm assuming we can go back to the old one, if needed?"

"Well, actually no -- we can't. Once I turn over the tiny partition I've got running this stuff, it'll eat through the old database. It's a one way ticket."

"I'll trust your judgment, but I'm asking you to do it," Jennifer said.

Greg thought for a moment. Maybe if push came to shove, he could recreate their old database from the L2 cache in everyone's neckbands.

"OK. We'll try it," he said.

Mayana came forward. "I Welcome you again. I understand you can speak some of our language now?"

"Hello," Jennifer said, formally greeting her as the Centaurans did.

"Yes, we can speak some of your language now."

"I hope Mion, Kleok, Benue and Na'une helped you," Mayana said, gesturing to the four of them who stood in formation around her.

"Yes, thank you," Jennifer replied.

"What'd you do to the language model, it's like she's speaking perfect English," Sarah whispered to Greg.

Mayana gestured for them to be seated at a stone table with hewn stools. Greg looked carefully at Mayana. In the mining town, the Centauran females wore loose functional clothing, and lots of it. He hadn't opportunity to notice any details of their form. Mayana had a long black mane of hair, well below her elongated neck to the left and right. She had strong legs which he could see through a slit on the part of her clothing that covered them. A tapering waist and larger chest was hinted at, but the clothing was not drawn tight enough to be sure. What had first appeared only vaguely humanoid, was more than expected. It was a bit of a mind-fuck, given how animal they were in other aspects.

"These are strange times we live in. It was not so long ago our mothers roamed through mountains hunting rechantu; now we have great powered ships that travel the water. There are even ships in the sky now. Sadly, I hear they are used in war, to kill opposing sides in the evaporation fields, and terrorize shipping vessels.

Your appearance is odd, but not beyond tales I have heard telling of undiscovered islands in the water. You do not speak our language. Is it true you crashed from the sky in one of these floating ships? This has become common. They are from one side or the other. We are free from war here, for now. Did you come to bring war, or did you arrive by accident? Where are you from?"

Greg was in awe. If he had this type of translation when Nira was talking to him, he could have understood her brain dumps she peppered him with. The processors were burning through the battery quickly, picking the language up at an impressive rate. He fidgeted through his sack and positioned a solar panel on the table to get what meager energy he could from Proxima. Having the localnet crash now would be bad. John was running the special model Greg had made, and it was flooding the system by observing the rich visual data available.

"We were explorers and crashed here by accident. There was nothing left of our airship. We were fortunate to be rescued. It is unlikely there are any seaships that can take us home, we come from far away."

"If you have built ships of the air, then surely you have mastered the water?"

"There is little water near us."

"They came across the top of the world. Do they not resemble the Lani?" Benue said.

"Please Benue, be quiet," Mayana said.

"What does he mean?" Jennifer asked.

"He refers to the great ocean. It is said if you travel as far west as you can, from the city of Southlights, you will come to an ocean so vast that none have ever found their way safely to a shore again. Many have sailed and returned, but none have traversed it. We believe there is another land mass beyond. Some have tried to cross the poles to get to it, the top of the world as Benue said, but it is too harsh a climate for us. Does Benue speak the truth?

"It is possible. There were great winds. Our navigation failed us. This land is as foreign to us as we seem to you. Could you tell us about this war?"

Mion was happy to oblige. Surrounding the water were three cities. The town they were in, Newtown, sat on the east side of the lake. Across the lake, to the north, was Northlights, and at the southern bottom of the water was Mainlights. Below mainlights was a critical resource, the seed of conflict, an evaporation pond, which due to the nature of Proxima b's relation to its star, was a limited and unique resource.

With its moderate eccentricity, and a 3:2 orbital resonance, there were two locations on the planet always facing the star at periastron, its closest approach. The crew's atmospheric models predicted these would be cloud free, each at opposing longitudes, and indeed they were. One of those cloud free areas was south of Mainlights. With water and steady flux from their star, both Northlights and Mainlights used it for evaporation processing of crushed ore from the mines. The resulting product was sold, with the largest buyer being Southlights, a sprawling metropolis south of Mainlights. Mainlights shipped the majority of ore mined in Anukina to the evaporation pond over water, from the Newtown harbor -- the local harbor. The short, direct railway, and efficient water transport was a cost advantage, allowing Mainlights to control the market price for ore.

Northlight's land route to the evaporation pond was a western railroad, on the other side of the lake. It was long, covered brutal terrain, and was expensive to maintain. Consequently, their ore profits suffered. Weary of this economic weakness, they developed an impressive sailing fleet to ship ore across the lake. This worked well, until Mainlights noticed their market share dropping. In response, they charged tariffs against Northlights for access to their docks at the southern end of the lake.

Displeased with unfair taxation, Northlights sought a political solution through the evaporation pond consortium which pooled the common interests of ore refineries. They asked for a cap on the tariffs. It was not a difficult proposition to sell; increased ore delivery benefited the consortium, no matter who it came from. Not long after the tariffs were capped, Northlights shipping vessels suffered attacks, and they considered that no coincidence.

At first it was harassment, but evolved into piracy and loss of life. Northlights claimed these attacks were orchestrated by underhand entities within Mainlights to disrupt shipping, and tilt the ore industry back into their favor. After exhausting its patience with politics, Northlights retaliated, or so most assumed.

Attacks on Mainlights shipping vessels had been reported by multiple sources. They came from airships which would bomb them, killing and injuring their crews, causing them to turn back. Newtown feared the conflict would escalate into all out war, stalling mining shipments and disrupting their economy. Being a wayside port midway between Northlights and Mainlights, Newtown depended on sailors to spend money and seek entertainment in their sports arena.

"Just like Earth," William mumbled in English.

"What are these machines you bring? Are they from industries of your land?" Mayana asked.

"They are devices to help us learn. We are scientists," replied Jennifer.

"Ah, I see. We are simpler here, not advanced like Southlights and Mainlights, but we are proud of our lights and trains."

"I could use work. I am good with lights and wires," William blurted out.

"Then you wish to stay?" Mayana said.

Jennifer glanced at William briefly, her expression unreadable. "As I said, it is unlikely a ship can take us home."

"I'm afraid I don't have very good news for you then. You are not Telluki or Teolid. Whether or not you are part of the war, you are foreigners. Adir, the leader of Mainlights, considers all foreigners combatants. If she finds you here, you won't be given the choice to stay. Nevertheless, I will see what work I might find for you. I was told you are capable healers, and the telegraph lines along the railroad are always short of linemen -- if you are indeed good with lights and wires.

Mion and Kleok will assist you with temporary bedding. Why don't you browse the harbor while Mother is in the sky. It will be several dozen cycles before seaships of foreign lands arrive in the port. I have work to do, but we will talk again," Mayana said, standing to leave.

Greg left his pack and the unfolded solar panels sitting on the table. He got up to talk to John. "Why are you still running the avatar, shouldn't you be taking a break?"

"Everything in my skull is on fire right now, why not. Look, if you've got this under control, I'm going to go for a stroll," John said, and then walked off without a care in the alien world.

** Chapter 17: The stars in our eyes **

John was tired. He'd passed out. All he could remember was getting up to go for a walk from Mayana's courtyard. His head pounded. Things that were supposed to hurt didn't, and things that weren't did. He'd cut his forearm earlier, cleaning one of his weapons. Even when staring directly at the wound, he had no idea it existed. He left Greg's language avatar running constantly in the background. Its incessant babbling was like a personality disorder he was addicted to. It kept his mind off the burning sensation in the back of his neck. Inside the base of his spine, white blood cells were attacking artificial structures, and it was playing havoc with the sophisticated processor that was part of him. He trudged alone, toward a shore that was the great lake. He wanted to see the water. Maybe he could join their war, captain one of these floating airships.

The architecture around him was a fusion of stone and metal, cement and rust. The periodic table was merciless, Proxima or Earth, it made no difference. In the distance he saw an old Chinese man with a flowing gray beard, a straw hat, and tattered military blues, but that couldn't be... how could that be possible? His footing stumbled, was he to succumb to outright hallucinations; was his implant malfunctioning that severely, were his rational days fewer than he imagined?

He was next to long rows of buildings abutting the shore, shipment processing centers he reasoned. He turned west to pass through one of the few breaks in the buildings. There were two rows. Between them was a dark and covered alley, barely lit with electric arc lighting that buzzed and cracked. There was bumping and clanging inside the buildings to his left and right. He hadn't realized it, but he was jogging toward where he saw the old Chinese man.

Groups of female Centaurans leaned against the building walls near doors. They chewed a dark green leaf, spitting its residue on the ground. They stopped what they were doing and watched him walk by as if his presence disrupted a private meeting. He continued walking. In the distance he thought he saw the Chinese man again. He blinked, was it just a small Centauran male wearing strange clothes? The figure entered a building.

He stopped to look around, the machines he saw were uniquely Centauran, and surprisingly advanced, considering William pegged their tech level in the late 1800s. Sidecar motorcycles using powdered metal fuel with internal combustion engines blocked his path. Everything was bigger on Proxima: the gravity, the stools -- and these bikes.

A voice startled him while he was admiring the machines. John didn't need translation, even with his fritzed neural link, what the language model knew went straight in his brain. Unlike the others, he could speak and comprehend with native speed.

"What are you doing here, cutie?" the voice said.

"I... was looking for something, or someone."

"Didn't Mayana tell you: it's rape, drugs and crime here."

A broad shouldered Telluki female stepped toward him from a door in the water-side building. She was wearing a smooth fabric, an old time leather flight suit. She looked like a hero or villain from a 1940s comic book, ready for an adventure, moments from being penned into action.

"What were you looking for?" she said.

"I thought I saw someone, someone who looked like me, here in this alley."

"Perhaps you did; would that surprise you?"

"To find someone here who looked like me? I'm not sure anymore."

"You're one of the newcomers. You think because we don't hang out in Newtown center we don't know what's going on. Word gets around. Some think you're from the unseen continent. Maybe you're from somewhere else," the strange alien said, spitting on a rusty metal grate, "I've got manners enough, barely, but I wouldn't take my chances going too much farther down, not without an escort."

"That's just how you trick me, make me feel safe; maybe you're the dangerous one?"

"Hey, you came to my street, I didn't come to yours. Come closer. I'm not going to hurt you. You'd be in trouble already if I was."

John moved where the harsh arc lighting was, blinking his blue eyes. The lighting was Sun-like, with the full visible spectrum human eyes could see.

"Mothers, it's true! You have star-colored eyes. They are so delicate. You wouldn't need to work with those eyes. I could show you places to make more money in a night than you'd make all week working in Mainlights."

She reached out to touch him. He'd not seen the clawed females make physical contact. Litra and Nira were practically ascetic with respect to personal space. He pulled back. They were imposing creatures. A subconscious part of his mammal ancestry urged caution as the sharp toothed stranger retreated.

The female laughed. "You're skittish, like all males, except for the ones that come down here on purpose. They're looking for something. So tell me again, what are you looking for, foreigner?"

"What's your name," John asked.

"That's forward. If we were in Northlights, that'd pass for a clan proposal. We don't do that here. We're unsettled, without a clan."

The tall female ran a hand through her black hair, tossing it back to uncover piercing red eyes.

"But, I'll play along; mine for yours. I am Ralia," she said, making a toothy grin.

"Hello, Ralia. I'm John."

"Jhn. Unusual, hard to pronounce. I may keep calling you star eyes."

"May I look at your bike?" he asked.

"You can do more than look. I'd take you for a ride. It's an N10. I modified it to run hotter than stock. You see that exhaust manifold? I made that myself."

"Is that the exciter box?"

"It is. Hmm," she said, which sounded like a growl overlaid with Hmm. "Rare to find a guy that cares about an engine. Are you really from the unseen continent? No one has ever been there. There are tales of people that have, filled with strange creatures -- children's stories. Although your eyes... I might be willing to believe them. I thought I grew out of all that; you could make a girl young again."