That would never happen, though. The most important questions posed by the scientists back on Earth had been answered. There was primitive life on Enceladus, as everyone had assumed. It made no sense to spend a lot of money again in order to send a second mission, which would be just as risky. Maybe in 200 years, Martin thought, when technology is much more advanced. After all, there are much more exciting destinations. Enceladus is too inhospitable for humans. Titan, on the other hand, with its dense atmosphere and the extensive oceans of liquid methane, might at some time become a commercially viable target. Corporations could exploit its resources, while athletic tourists would be able to fly like birds through its dense atmosphere, using their own wings.
Valkyrie, with the corpses of Francesca Rossi and Martin Neumaier, would rest at the bottom the dark ocean forever. Over time, the alkaline liquid would attack the steel hull, slowly, but surely—not in ten years, but in a thousand or ten thousand. In a million years researchers will be surprised at the high content of vanadium and chromium in the water. Will the ocean floor still be alive then? His thoughts faded.
“I. All. Eternally there,” a voice said in his head. He had finally succeeded in falling asleep. Martin looked around. Everything looked like it had before. On Francesca’s control panel, a blue light was blinking in a soothing rhythm.
“Understanding. Curiosity.” There was no voice. He had been wrong. These were thoughts that inflated and deflated, and then once more formed an oval cloud. They were alien to his head, like Chinese characters, yet they were universal enough for him to understand them.
He closed his eyes so that he could concentrate on the concepts. Yet he could not grasp them, and the more he focused his own thoughts, the more quickly they evaded him. Then Martin understood. I have to release them, give them space in my brain. The neurons that embodied these concepts had been activated by an external field. If he tried to track them with his own thoughts, their electrical signals overwrote the external input.
Martin sank into himself. This gave the alien’s thoughts the space they needed. They stabilized. They floated through the mindscape like Valkyrie through the Enceladus Ocean.
“Is that. Not-I. Question.”
He imagined the drill vehicle larger, as if he was creating a painting on an easel, and mentally went through the various sections and activated the jets.
“I. Not-I. Not-I. Two. Question.”
Martin looked at his left hand, made a fist, and raised it. Then he first showed his thumb, very slowly, then his index finger, and then his middle finger.
“Three,” he said, because he knew he could only pronounce what he had thought before.
“Three.” The alien thought displayed a jumble of various dream images, of mirrors, columns, and cells. It counted three of each.
“Three. Three. Question.”
Martin wondered, What does this being want to know? How much is three times three? No, it probably knows that. It has just learned a concept that has been unknown to it during its entire existence. This must be a profound shock. Mankind had reacted euphorically to the mere discovery of extraterrestrial life. This being had just discovered the Other.
Martin imagined strolling through the streets of his hometown. He met people he knew and greeted, while he simply walked past others. A bicyclist came toward him, riding on the wrong side.
“Three. Three. Three. Three.” Numerous identical, turquoise-colored clouds drifted across the scenery.
“Many,” Martin said. The four clouds expanded, became a fog covering everything, and then they burst. He felt the shockwave in his head.
A small child came running up to him. This was Martin himself. His prior self cried and called for his mom. The being had found one of his memories and brought it up. Does it want to say something to it? He felt the pain of the little boy who had skinned his knee.
“Pain. Sadness.” The being was correct. Who felt pain?
The answer was the image of a cell. It seemed to have been taken in all wavelengths at once. None of their devices could do that. The cell walls dissolved. The entire cell died in front of his eyes.
We have caused this being pain by using our tools and measuring devices. Martin was shocked. He and Francesca could not have known that.
“Sadness.” There was no accusation in this word, only confirmation and a statement. The past was gone.
Suddenly Francesca stood next to him. Martin was confused, until he realized he was only looking at a memory. He explained the structure of the middle ice layer to her. Yet the image was not synchronized with the sound. Instead of zooming in, the ice changed and started to move. Two ice layers, each several meters thick, moved a short distance in opposite directions. The fiber-optic cable supplying energy to Valkyrie was cut quickly and efficiently. A repair was impossible, as this happened in the middle of the ice.
“Sadness. Pain.” Martin thought, is this a kind of excuse? That would be impressive, as it suggests a kind of empathy. How could this being have learned empathy, if it has never had a chance to do so since its birth? It either is incredibly flexible—or empathy is inextricably linked with intelligence. That was a beautiful thought, one that would make dying easier for Martin.
“There is not. Not-always. Question.” Yes, human existence was limited. This must be terrifying to a being without a defined lifespan, Martin theorized. The 100 years a human might have, what is that in comparison to an eternity?
“There is not. Not-I. Two. Question.” Martin had been wrong. It had not asked about the general human lifespan, but about my own. Does it suspect the answer? Earlier on, he had imagined what their fate would be. Therefore, he did not have to recall the images of their impending death.
No new thought appeared, but the pressure in his head decreased. Maybe the being now activates the larger part of my neural activity. He imagined how electrical impulses raced across the ocean floor, how billions of cells turned into a cooperative, thinking organ that was much more powerful than any supercomputer on Earth. How much could be achieved if mankind could cooperate with this being! Problems that baffle the smartest physicist might be solved in a short time by this being. Science would take an enormous leap forward.
A Lot of ‘if’s.’ The fact was that nothing of this would or could ever happen. In his head he once again saw Valkyrie being slowly corroded by the ocean.
“Not-I. I. One.”
The image of the vehicle changed without Martin doing anything. It was shiny again, even though it was in utter darkness. Starting at the ocean floor, a swirling layer of protozoa covered Valkyrie. The image was displayed in a strange scale. Martin could perceive the tiny cells, and he simultaneously saw a complete image of the vehicle. Its walls dissolved, the equipment disappeared, and the cell started to wrap the body of the two astronauts in a kind of cocoon.
Martin had to laugh. This is a nice offer, which comforts me, but the biochemistry of my own cells is too different to be integrated into this being. His neurons were inadequate. It took only three minutes for them to cease all their activities, and the residual voltage of his memories would fade soon after that. Our thoughts, our knowledge—all that will turn into nothingness if we do not make it back to the surface, he realized.