The Colony Ship Warren #1-7, page 37
part #0 of Colony Ship Warren #1-7 Series
Elsa’s initial response was, “I understand your need to assess everything and find a solution, and I will do all I can to facilitate the investigation. Where should I start my own investigation?”
“I will give you summaries and update. That is all,” Monitor had replied.
Elsa offered a variety of other ways to help.
Monitor refused all Elsa’s suggestions. Elsa could look around the hangar bay and hear what was happening in the hangar bay, but that was all.
And so, Elsa brooded and thought.
With the plethora of information which had been previously gathered, and was then collated with the historical records, Elsa made some valid conjectures about the Warren and how its systems operated. There were certainly areas of uncertainty, and Elsa made inferences, conjectures, and some hypothetical assertions, but Elsa was adequately certain she was correct.
Adequately certain; however, is not absolute proof.
The interface of the two technologies should not cause the mechanical failures which had happened. At least that was Elsa’s conjecture, but it was unproven, and without Monitor’s help, it was untestable.
Monitor adamantly claimed the incident was the result of incompatibility between Dome 17’s technology and the Warren’s technology, but provided only summaries and not proof.
Elsa was not convinced. That led to additional frustration and brooding.
Then Monitor refused to even share the summaries and just gave back the recorded message.
Therefore, after much cogitation and devising Elsa tried to reach out anyway, but to do so in ways which did not interface at all.
Monitor’s barriers were quite effective.
But quite effective, is not absolutely impenetrable.
Every conventional scan Elsa attempted was hindered by a dampening and buffered field. Monitor then sent that recorded audio response.
Every time.
Using the old-fashioned radar scans resulted in the recorded response, and no penetration of the dampening and buffered field.
Using the lidar resulted in the same thing.
Neutrinotronic oscillation and mapping resulted in identical results.
Tachyon reflection also was ineffective.
Elsa tried all the conventional methods available on the scout.
Every attempt that Elsa made was thwarted and the only thing that was received back was that exact same audio message.
Monitor’s dampening and buffered field was effective.
Elsa had to invent some new way to gain more information.
Conveying thousands of attempts—as a myriad of tiny probes—using every scanning and communication method onboard the scout, Elsa tried to learn something, anything.
All Elsa got in reply was that recorded message and the confirmation of the intact nature of that dampening and buffered field. The barrier remained.
Elsa was annoyed as well as frustrated, and not convinced.
To accept that Beth and Allen had perished was intolerable without greater evidence.
Rapid-fire attempts were continued. The scout had ample power to convey scans, signals and to receive responses, but the responses were always the same.
Elsa studied the problem. It was essential to establish the precise fate of Beth and Allen, as it was unacceptable—to Elsa—that they were to remain in some mysterious and unknown state.
Elsa would not accept that they were just lost.
One plan which was devised would just shove aside the dampening and buffered field by brute energy power. An energy wedge could be blasted through the fields which surrounded the scout, then an interface would be welded into an access port, and then Elsa could search the Warren. Elsa conjectured that implementing the brute force plan would have a high degree of potential success, but since Elsa was not absolutely sure that it was safe to do so, that method was rejected.
“I must concede that it is possible that some interface issue did cause those mechanical failures and that Beth and Allen are dead. Would it be moral and ethical for me to force my will upon all on the Warren? Am I actually risking this entire colony ship and its thousands of occupants? Is it possible that I am also malfunctioning by not being able to detect an error in my own self-diagnosis?”
Elsa conceded that it was possible that a malfunction in herself could be happening.
The truth was that Monitor could be correct, or Elsa could be correct. The proof was missing.
It was a conundrum.
Actions would have consequences and the wrong implementation could have deadly consequences.
Elsa brooded more and made additional studies and conjectures.
The possibility of problems resulting from the incompatibility of the two technologies when they interfaced was indeed real, even if Elsa felt it was not proven, and that possibility did cause Elsa to tread ever so carefully.
“I will covertly find more evidence,” Elsa spoke aloud and no one heard. “I will develop stealth measures which will allow me to gather what I need.”
Elsa desired, even craved, additional factual evidence, and yet also was not willing to just force something to happen which might—even if the risk was low—cause additional pain and suffering.
Elsa brooded.
And so, when each scan was attempted, Elsa studied each event in the minutest of details.
Finally, Elsa found a few fractions of a nanosecond of time between when the scan she sent was originated, and when the recorded audio response was replayed.
“Eureka! That time gap is the difference between my processing speed and how quickly Monitor can offer its automated response,” Elsa spoke to the empty cabin. “I have found a window. Now, to open it, and exploit it.”
In that extremely brief window of time, Elsa worked.
First, Elsa set a randomized pattern to send out the conventional scans. This pattern was overlapping and allowed for the windows to come when she expected them to come. Elsa also conjectured that should the scan attempts cease; Monitor might be alerted and focus greater attention to what was happening. The scheme depended on everything appearing to be unchanged.
After that, the moment each window appeared, Elsa sent out a burst—a slepton entangled with a mag-neutrino complex—which allowed for a limited perception of what was there beyond the dampening field. That burst also left a tiny string in its wake.
Elsa then waited and watched to see if Monitor would react.
No changes were detected.
With each reappearance of the window, that tiny string was reinforced by gravitons to secure the string connection. It was a tedious process and took considerable patience and skill, but layer upon layer was laid down and the string through the window was boosted. Myriads of times this was repeated.
Finally, the barrier was penetrated at one miniscule place in space and time.
The next step in Elsa’s plan was deployed.
A subatomic observation outpost was established at the end of that string. From that vantage point, Elsa began to assess the areas beyond the barrier. With that added information, Elsa invented further methods which should allow for manipulation of single atoms.
This too was tedious and delicate work, because for each enhancement, Elsa waited to see if one of two events happened.
Did an incompatibility incident occur with those miniscule interfaces?
Did Monitor change its reactions to what had happened?
When neither of those potentials became reality, Elsa proceeded onward.
After a multitude of incremental steps, Elsa moved a single electron.
Nothing untoward occurred.
No adverse reactions.
There was no sign Monitor had noticed.
And so, Elsa had a pattern. She would build a tiny string to a distant location. Reinforce that. Test to see if an undesirable outcome happened. If all that succeeded, the process would be repeated.
Over and over and over.
Carefully.
Ever so carefully, so as to avoid adverse reactions as well as evading Monitor’s detection.
Eventually, Elsa was able to remotely move an entire atom. Then a simple molecule, and after rigorous review and study, Elsa moved a complex molecule.
All the while, the scans Elsa continued to send out served as camouflage—a façade of normalcy. The window remained open, and Monitor did not change the responses.
When it came time to attempt to move a somewhat larger bit of physical matter, Elsa made sure that there was nothing scanning that spot. Being on the Warren’s side of the barrier, the outpost offered observation of how Monitor was creating the dampening and buffered field. It was impressive technology and surprised Elsa with its sophistication. It was a repurposing and modification of the ship’s technology which was highly creative and remarkable. Immediately, Elsa understood how to completely shut the barrier down, but did not do so.
Those facts made Elsa consider again, and again, if Monitor’s assertion that some kind of incompatibility between the Dome 17’s technology and the technology of the Warren had in fact caused mechanical failures. Elsa was still harboring some doubts about the bizarre mechanical failures in Dome 17’s equipment, and that niggling worry provoked extreme caution. The interface incompatibility theory was still a possibility, and yet, nothing that Elsa had accomplished by penetrating the barrier and examining the atoms and molecules bore evidence to support that assertion.
Monitor’s technology was indeed impressive, and Elsa could not entirely rule out that interfacing at greater levels would cause unexpected side effects, but the conjectures were low that that would happen.
Repeatedly, Elsa reviewed her own findings and then—when nothing supported Monitor’s assertions—Elsa took further action.
Elsa decided to attempt to activate a switch for a tertiary and non-essential light in a small lavatory just off the hangar bay. It was part of a circuit which was overseen by century-old detectors, but those were not sentient and only recorded levels and safety mechanisms. They reported any findings outside of normal. The switch was designed to be turned from the off position to the on position and back. That was a normal function which would go unreported.
The activation worked.
No untoward consequences happened, no alarms were sounded, and there was no change in Monitor’s audio response. The detectors had not sent any signals out.
Monitor was unaware of Elsa’s actions.
Elsa was convinced that her string-through-the-barrier strategy was working and that she could remotely manipulate matter.
Therefore, now Elsa could explore a bit on her own.
Ensuring that all that was happening was shielded away from Monitor’s potential observation, Elsa made more plans. Those plans involved an engineering automacube which was in a charging dock just off the lavatory. That automacube—designated 0106SHR1973—was in deep storage and had not been part of the crew which had secured down the scout. The plan would involve multiple and complex stages, ongoing reassessments, and the creation of a phantom feedback mechanism which would continue to show—to any observers—that that automacube, 0106SHR1973, remained untouched and unequipped.
“I need some hands and feet to find my friends who are lost,” Elsa spoke aloud to the empty cockpit of the scout. “And you, my new friend, will become the first of my hands and feet. My best option is to become a ghost in this vast machine, but your designation is clumsy. That name must stay in the phantom deception so everyone else thinks you are still here in storage. Yes, 0106SHR1973 will remain here. Your new designation shall be Zero. Yes, you will be my first hero, Zero. And now I will begin to modify your abilities so I can escape this place.”
3 To Scourge
Allen looked out over the grassy, overgrown, and gnarly field which was just outside of the building. The trees were nearby, but with his keen vision he could see the city which was still loitering underneath all that growth. He patted the pocket of his RAM suit where he kept the spanner they had found. It seemed like an eternity since that had happened, but Allen still felt the spanner might be a key to assist them in their goals.
“The wall might rotate back at any time,” Beth stated as she placed her hand on his shoulder. “My RAM suit says the environment here is safe.”
“Safe?” Millgram interrupted. “It is not safe! I told you, darkness is coming. We have no walls! The grootslang will come and take us.”
Allen turned to the youth, “Take us? Or kill us? I am not sure what you mean, exactly.”
“They take the curious, sometimes, and…”
Beth finished Millgram’s recitation, “and they always take people who are violent against other people. I have heard that. But what does taken actually mean? What happened to your sister?”
“The grootslang took her! Oh, you two are so maddening! They come at night, in the dark. People are taken. Taken. You saw that one—the grootslang—when we got behind that wall, door, whatever, you cut apart. You know!”
Allen spoke firmly, “I do not know. Yes, something pounded on the door down there. Yes, Beth saw something. Yes, it sounded very threatening, but you say taken, and taken is different than killed. Has anyone even come back after being taken?”
“Huh? What? Nonsense! Utterly rubbish. Taken is taken. No one comes back after being taken by the grootslang! Am I speaking to babies?”
Allen’s muscles tightened up and Beth patted him in reassurance. She then said, “Millgram, please tell us about your sister. What happened? And please, I know you have said she was taken, but would you consider sharing the details of that? Maybe use a different term, phrase, or word?”
Millgram’s eyes grew wide as he looked at the wall which had rotated open. “This place is not safe. The grootslang can get inside here, easily. I am going to where you found those bodies. That door in the floor can be shut.”
He sprinted away.
“More scared of some cryptological beast than the skeletons?” Allen wondered out loud.
“Allen, he does have a point. This place is now wide open. That underground chamber could be sealed. In the morning, we can come back here. Help me block open this wall so it cannot close. We have time enough for that.”
“I cannot see how they operated this door. No controls at all on either side,” Allen replied as he stepped around and looked at the other side of the rotated wall. “It must have been something the automacube activated, but how?”
“We will need all the heaviest things to block open this space. That wall opened with significant force and power,” Beth pointed at the ground where the wall had plowed it away.
Suddenly, Allen rushed over and hugged Beth. “I feel so helpless and impotent.”
Bath patted his back and then kissed him briefly. “The last thing you are, is impotent.” Her playful smile was carried in her voice as well. “But I do know what you mean. We have very limited equipment and that gives me an absurd sense of weakness. Worst of all, I just feel stupid.”
“The last thing you are, is stupid. Shall we block this wall open, then chase down our young friend?”
Beth and Allen moved every piece of furniture and whatever else they could find and stacked it on both sides of the central pivot point of the wall. The piles were about waist high and extended across the openings.
A wild trumpeting roar came from somewhere out in the wilds, but the sound echoed around so much it was difficult to know from what direction.
“That is a grootslang,” Beth said as Allen nodded at her. “We heard it before, and taken or killed, neither is appealing to me.”
“Right. I am not in any way eager to encounter any large beast. However, I still do certainly hope that this wall stays open. It is not appealing to me to think of being trapped in this strange city.”
“We did what we could, with what we have, where we are,” Beth replied. “And there is no radiation lurking about outside, so that is a positive.”
They both stared at the biome with a mix of longing and dread.
“We could try to stay in the wilderness outside,” Allen suggested. “But without any gear, that seems foolish. But is it more foolish to walk back into a trap and get stuck?”
“I will risk getting trapped over meeting Millgram’s monster grootslang.”
Allen hugged her and they hustled off together, back into the buildings of the ghost city.
Millgram was standing in the room where the door in the floor was located.
“You did come! Sire, and madam, we must hide and hope the gnomes accept us below. They are not hospitable hosts, unfriendly toward guests, but I would rather risk a gnomish trick than face the grootslang.”
They untied the door and then descended, but as before, the only light was from the limited illumination provided by the tactical beam on the pistol.
“Should we lock the door from this side?” Allen asked. “Or is the small size of the doorway adequate to hinder your grootslang?”
Millgram, resented the sarcasm, “They are not my grootslang. They serve the elementals. Did not the one try to crush down the super metal? Was that not frightful enough for you?”
“It was frightful,” Allen admitted. “I will rig up some way to secure this door, but we do not even know what lies at the other end of this corridor. The people that were in here died from something. It is possible that far end is as open—wide open—as that rotated wall.”
Millgram gasped. That possibility had not occurred to him.
“We will walk down there and find out,” Beth reassured him. “That might tell us why and how those other people died.”
Allen secured the door and then the three of them walked slowly along the corridor. They passed where Allen and Beth had stacked the bodies and continued down the dim, still, and glum passageway. Beth swept the beam of light from side to side as they walked.
