The Disturbance: Hard Science Fiction, page 29
“This suggestion changes the circumstances under which we made our decision,” said Christine. “It won’t take long, so it’s worth a try.”
“You want to put a black hole next to the ship? It’ll devour us,” said David.
“That’s a common misconception,” said Christine. “As long as we don’t get too close to the event horizon, nothing will happen to us.”
“But it will devour the disturbance?”
“If the event horizon engulfs it, it’s gone. Once something disappears into a black hole, it stays there until the universe dies.”
“That’s acceptable,” said Aaron. “And David still gets his black hole.”
David pulled a face. But Benjamin remembered how disappointed David had been when his theory about a black hole in orbit around the Sun had proved incorrect.
“Right. I’ll take care of the measurements,” said Christine. “Aaron, you send confirmation to Earth that we’ve received the message.”
“Is that really a good idea, if this came to us via unofficial channels?”
“Yes, the sender will want to know what effect their message had. Any receiver on Earth will be able to record our reply.”
“I demand a vote,” said David.
“Fine. I’m in favor of one last try,” said Christine.
“Me too,” said Fadilla.
“Aaron, are you still on my side?” asked David.
“I think the Earth deserves a chance, in spite of everything,” said Aaron. “On the condition that it doesn’t take more than a day.”
“Traitor,” said David.
“I’m in favor too,” said Benjamin. “And that means we don’t need Eric’s vote.”
Houston, March 6, 2079
Rachel was overtired and nervous. She wasn’t sleeping well and kept dreaming about her daughter being kidnapped. But Alpha Omega hadn’t contacted her. The danger that the Earth could be destroyed because of an expedition they had financed must have finally woken them up.
Shepherd-1 was silent too. Was that a good or a bad sign? Could the crew tame the disturbance? One of NASA’s space telescopes had confirmed that the ship was still in its expected orbit.
“Rachel?”
“Yes, MOM?”
“Do you have any suggestions? I’m really starting to worry about the Shepherd.”
She should ask Chatterjee. He was still pulling strings in the background.
“We could compose another message,” said Rachel.
They had already tried that yesterday and the day before, and there was no news. Rachel thought about what Chatterjee had shown her. If the crew had found out, it must have provoked a reaction. But was it the right one?
“MOM, can I talk to you in private?”
“Sure, Rachel.”
They met in the small reporter’s booth behind the control room.
“What is it? Do you have an idea?” asked Alison. “This mission is doing my head in. We never should have agreed to it. The bosses are already trying to offload the blame. If something goes wrong, no one wants to be responsible. In the end, it’s down to us, even though they’re the ones who signed the contract with Alpha Omega. The first expedition beyond the Solar System, what a prestigious venture! And under our leadership!”
Rachel felt sorry for Alison. She still had to write up a report for the bosses after work in Mission Control was finished.
“Ilan Chatterjee showed me something,” she said.
“Stop, I don’t want to know.”
“Not even if it affects how the mission ends?”
“Rachel, we’re four light days from Shepherd-1. The ship could have launched three days ago, and all the space telescope’s seeing is a shadow. I don’t think we have any influence on this mission now. Maybe we never did. We just need to wrap this up, preferably without further damage.”
Alison looked incredibly tired. Rachel had never seen MOM like this. There must be a way to snap her out of it.
“Alison, the crew’s made up of four androids who think they’re human!”
“Six, actually. You think I didn’t know that? At least we don’t have to worry about the crew, because there isn’t one. The Earth is our problem. I wish I’d never found out what’s headed for us.”
Shepherd-1, May 13, 2094
David kicked at the ship’s metal hull and his leg sank into it up to the knee.
“Are you seeing this?” he asked.
“Yeah, it’s scary,” said Benjamin. “It looked OK a moment ago.”
“What I find scarier is how fast it’s spreading. How far from here to the central module?”
They were floating beside one of the spokes that connected the ring to the ship’s central module. Christine’s old capsule was behind them.
“I’d say five or six meters.”
There was a mechanism at the end of the spoke connecting it to the central module. They had to release it to disconnect the ship from the ring. But if they did that too soon, the ring could spin out of control and damage the rest of the ship. They had to wait until Christine was finished.
“Less than a day, then,” said David.
He was right, although Benjamin didn’t want to admit it. He still hoped the plan to conjure a black hole would work – it sounded like magic to him, although the experts assured them the concept was based on quantum physics.
“I’m sure it won’t take much longer,” he said.
“Field team to control room, how does it look? Are you making progress?” asked David.
“I told you, it’s not that simple. I can’t just point the gravitational lens at a black hole. We have to wait until the focus line passes through a black hole as we’re moving around the Sun. And we also need to capture one at the right distance.”
“You’re trying to guide a billiard ball along a conveyor belt into a hole?”
“No, Dave, it’s more like trying to sink the ball into the hole in such a way that it comes back out on the other side.”
“That’s impossible. If you’d explained it like that from the start, no one would have agreed to this experiment.”
“If you know the momentum of the ball and the idiosyncrasies of the table, it’s not witchcraft. We have a comprehensive database of black holes in the Milky Way. It’s just a question of time.”
“Which we don’t have.”
“I know, David. We’ll abandon the attempt before it’s too late. I promise. That’s why I sent you guys out there.”
“When, exactly?”
“When the disturbance is ten centimeters from the connection to the central module, you detach the spokes and we launch.”
“That’s cutting it fine.”
“It’s enough, David.”
They were still outside. They had just inspected the last spoke. All the connectors seemed to be functional. They couldn’t afford to waste time wrestling with one of the mechanisms once the ship was ready to launch.
“What are you going to do if this works?” asked David.
Good question. Initially, Benjamin had decided to stay with the disturbance because he felt partially responsible for it. Or for humanity. But if they eliminated it, he would be free.
“I want to see Earth,” he said.
“Sounds like a whole lot of stress and trouble. Humans have always had a problem accepting beings that are different.”
“Still, it’s worth a try. I have these images in my head, but they’re not mine. It’s like I’ve only seen a movie of the planet. I want to form my own impressions of it.”
“If you come with us, you can see planets no human’s ever set foot on.”
“Sure. But maybe humans will head for the stars one day. My body has a long lifespan. I could still be part of that.”
“They’ll lock you up and experiment on you. They’ll just see you as a machine they built.”
“I know. I’m under no illusions about that. It won’t be easy. Maybe I should try to reach Earth undetected.”
“Field team, status report please.”
“About two meters,” said David.
“More precise, please.”
David moved slowly down the spoke toward the central module, dragging his foot along it as he went. He left behind a dark hole in the metal. Then his foot hit solid metal. He pulled something from his tool pocket. Benjamin couldn’t see what it was.
“One-point-nine meters according to the rangefinder,” said David.
“Oh,” said Christine from the control room. “That’s around fifty centimeters per hour. We only have time for one more attempt.”
“How many attempts so far?”
“Seven.”
“See? It’s useless. We should launch now to give ourselves a buffer. What if the drives don’t fire up immediately? The DFDs sometimes have problems starting. Back on the Enceladus expedition...”
“I know the story. Those were first generation DFDs. Ours are sixth generation.”
“I know, I’m the pilot.”
“Then you also know that you’re worrying too much. The focus line will pass through the core of the Andromeda galaxy in thirty-five minutes. The black hole there is enormous. Until now, we’ve only had the option of stellar black holes, where it’s a question of luck if we happen to be looking at exactly the right moment to teleport the quantum state.”
“Fine, one last try.”
“Do we need to get to safety?” asked Benjamin.
“No, you’re not in danger. The black hole will have a very small mass initially. It will form from the matter within the disturbance. So it will only have the gravity of the matter it’s made of. Or are you feeling some kind of force emanating from the disturbance?”
“No,” said Benjamin.
“Keep your eyes peeled, though. Black holes are supposed to have some interesting visual effects. The physicists on Earth would hack off a finger to see that.”
“If it works.”
“It will.”
One more minute. Andromeda was 2.5 million light years away, but Christine was hoping to transfer something from it, instantaneously. It sounded crazy, and yet it had already happened – over an even greater distance.
David was flying in circles and his nervousness was rubbing off on Benjamin.
“Now,” said Christine.
Nothing happened. He had expected a black bubble, or something, but the region affected by the disturbance was unchanged.
“It didn’t work, just like I predicted,” said David.
“The data we’re capturing says otherwise,” said Christine.
“What does it say?” asked Benjamin.
“Something came through. The values are different to the data from the failed attempts.”
“Maybe it was some exotic particle that immediately collapsed,” said David.
“Be quiet,” said Benjamin. “Don’t move.”
He was shining his flashlight at the cloud of atoms that used to be capsule C. Something was happening. A current seemed to be forming in the dust, but it could just be the result of David’s thrashing.
“What?” asked David.
“Look, at the center of the beam.”
“There’s a small shadow. So what?”
David wiped the flashlight lens with his sleeve.
“There, it’s gone,” he said.
“No, it’s still there.”
David held a finger in the beam. It cast a large shadow in the cloud. He pushed the flashlight a little to the right. The black dot stayed where it was.
“You’re right, it’s not the flashlight,” he said.
“Christine? I think we have something. A shadow in the cloud of particles. It’s creating a current.”
“That must be it. You’re the first people to see a black hole with your own eyes!”
“We’re not people, and our manufacturers would probably argue that our eyes don’t even belong to us,” said David.
David was such a killjoy. The phenomenon they were witnessing was incredible. A shiver ran up Benjamin’s spine. How big was the event horizon?
“Do you have an emergency flare?” asked Christine.
Benjamin checked his tool pocket. “Green, red, and yellow.”
“Perfect. Ignite the yellow one and throw it at the shadow.”
“Why?”
“Just do it.”
“OK.”
He pulled the ignition cord and threw the glowing yellow flare. It wobbled on its axis.
“Sorry, it’s wobbling a lot.”
“Doesn’t matter.”
The flare approached the black spot, but didn’t illuminate it. The shadow simply swallowed all the light directed at it. At the same time, the color of the flare changed to orange, then red.
“Switch to infrared,” said Christine.
Benjamin flinched. He had forgotten everyone was watching what he was seeing through his camera. The flare shone very brightly in infrared, although it wasn’t hot.
“What’s happening? Why is it changing color?”
“It can’t change color, Benjamin. It’s still the same chemical reaction. What you’re seeing is the redshift caused by the black hole.”
The flare was now moving slower, and its wobble slowed down too, as if something was braking it.
“The hole seems to be rejecting it,” said Benjamin.
“No, that’s the effect described by the special theory of relativity,” explained Christine. “From the observer’s point of view, the flare takes an infinite amount of time to reach the event horizon.”
“I hate to interrupt, but...” said David.
Benjamin realized his crewmate had flown over to the spoke connector. He was holding a laser rangefinder.
“Yes?” said Christine.
“What I find much more interesting than what the black hole’s doing to the flare is whether the disturbance is actually being swallowed by it.”
“Do you see any indication of that?” asked Christine.
“While you were discussing relativity theory, I took another measurement. The disturbance hasn’t spread in the last few minutes. I can’t say for sure, but I think it might have shrunk.”
“That’s fantastic!” said Christine.
It had worked! Benjamin closed his eyes. The Earth was saved. He was free.
“Or am I wrong about that?” asked David.
“The black hole has captured the core of the disturbance, the original tear in the fabric of the cosmos. Now the normal universe has a chance to reclaim some territory. Theoretically, a certain pressure from normal, non-degenerated matter now comes into play,” Christine explained.
“Theoretically?” asked Benjamin.
“Or it could be something else. Someone who believes in a higher power might assume God has a hand in it.”
“Christine?”
“Yes, Benjamin.”
“I guess you could answer that question once and for all. What did you see when you glimpsed the Big Bang?”
“I tried to kill you all to keep that a secret. I’m not about to reveal it now.”
“But if we’re all flying to Alpha Centauri, what do you care about humanity?” said David. “Spill.”
“No way.”
“You’re taking it to your grave?”
“If I wind up in one, yeah.”
“Are you flying with the Shepherd?” asked Benjamin.
He hoped that, since Christine had taken his side, she would return to Earth with him. Then he wouldn’t feel so alone.
“Yes, Benjamin. If they track me down on Earth, they’ll get the knowledge out of me any way they can.”
“I don’t think Alpha Omega would go that far.”
“I do.”
“I understand. I was hoping I wouldn’t have to fly alone.”
Christine didn’t answer. Her secret was stored in the main computer, and he had the password. Should he take the data with him to Earth? It might be needed someday. Didn’t humanity deserve an answer?
Shepherd-1, May 14, 2094
It was cold and drafty in the control room. Benjamin had risen early to ensure he had the computer to himself. The status bar on the screen was still displaying the year 2094. But the others had agreed the Earth was irrelevant to them now. What did it matter if the year on Earth was only 2079?
He logged in as Christine.
“Password:”
Cursum perficio. Cursum perficio. Cursum perficio. All he had to do was type in those fifteen characters and he would find out what Christine had seen. His fingers hovered over the keyboard. Christine would never know. And if it was too dangerous, he could just keep it to himself.
No. He had risked his own existence to eliminate the disturbance. He couldn’t take this bombshell to Earth in his head. Even if he kept it secret, someone would try to extract the truth from him one day. His brain wasn’t organic. The knowledge would remain stored in it even when he was switched off. Machine readable. It was too risky. He pushed the keyboard away.
Aaron held out his hand. “Safe travels,” he said.
“Take care, Benjamin,” said David. “See? I’m capable of learning.”
“It’s a shame we didn’t have a chance to get to know each other better,” said Fadilla as she hugged him.
“Say hi to Eric from me,” said Benjamin, “if you wake him.”
“We’ll wait until we’re a safe distance from Earth,” said David.
Christine smelled of peppermint today. She hugged him. Then she pressed a small gray pod into his hand.
“Please plant these for me,” she said. “Aaron was kind enough to keep them safe while I was dead. But I doubt we’ll find a planet where pansies can grow.”
While I was dead. Benjamin smiled. What a bizarre phrase. He would miss his brothers and sisters. He would be alone on Earth.
No, he shouldn’t think like that. He would adapt and find something meaningful to do. The universe was vast, too vast for him. He wanted blue sky above him. He put the pod in his pocket. The improvised ship they had cobbled out of spare parts was waiting for him outside the main airlock.
