Second Chances (124 page)

“Humans have a set gestation time, though I understand you've tinkered with that,” Doctor Ventura said, sounding testy. “Also time to rear a child, which so far we haven't seen many indications of tampering. We usually space children out in advanced cultures to make it easier on our bodies and minds.”

“Answer logged for further review. Expand on subject detail.”

“In more primitive villages,” Mitch turned and mouthed a sorry to Tsakhia and others near him. “They don't have access to birth control and require more hands to feed themselves and do labor intensive tasks. We have machines to do the work so it is easier.”

“Then why doesn't your population expand proportionally? That does not compute,”
a small Meme buzzed, pulsing red.

“The second point is, with the machinery and our technology we have more defenses against the aliens and dinosaurs. Therefore we can avoid exposure to them and thus reduce our casualty rate,” Phyllis said, making a face.

The Meme pulsed as he seemed to digest the concept.
“Understood. Why does your population then not continue to go up?”

“When we found out about the cloning many were disturbed by it. That is a third factor. But,” Mitch said with a shrug, “it all comes down to choice. With less of a threat of death, a longer life span, access to medical care, a good diet, and better facilities to care and educate our young, we can choose when we wish to reproduce and how many children we wish to have.”

“The tech makes the food, medical care, and facilities possible,” Evan said. “And for the record, they and I am trying to get our neighbors up to our tech level. That will undoubtedly alter their population curve, but it will also lessen their interaction with other species.”

“Your appetite for raw materials will increase exponentially, however,”
one of the Memes reported.
“It already has,”
the alien said.

“True,” Mitch acknowledged. “But with that increase comes a slow shift to modern technology. Renewable green energy for one. Which will slow and eventually halt our export of greenhouse gases. It will also limit or reverse our need for carbon export, and our own animals and farming will allow us to reduce our demand on the environment. Therefore we will hopefully not repeat the mistakes of the past,” Mitch said, looking at the colonel. The colonel scowled, crossing his arms.

“Understood. Further simulations required on subject however.”

“Back to the problem of genetics,” Sandra said, holding up a hand. “Did you understand when Mitch explained to you that tampering with the genetics in that way limits evolution and can
increase
the chances of extinction? Species like our own take, or I should say, normally take genetic material from both parents. They can also access their recessive genetics. Your tampering has profoundly altered our biodiversity and will affect our culture over time. This is wrong. Unethical.”

“Query not understood,”
a Meme said.
“Further simulation of points is currently underway.”

“And time estimate on that,” Chief Roberts asked dryly.

“None your species have the capacity to understand.”

“Yeah, I thought not,” the SEAL said. “In other words, they could be done tomorrow, or a century, or a millennium from now. So we're stuck with it,” he said in disgust.

------*------

“We have a lot of questions. The inheritor status for one. What do you mean by that, and what does it mean to us. I think we could use some answers,” Mitch said.

“Understood.”
The aliens turned and consulted one another, flickering their lights and tentacles quickly.
“This one has not conformed to expectations,”
the largest Meme stated, waving a tentacle towards a Meme one-third its size.
“It can remain to answer your questions since it has been assigned to catalog this world.”

Mitch looked at the alien in question. It seemed to be a bit deflated, dimmer. “I'm not sure about the wisdom of assigning a non-conforming AI to answer our questions. How will we know we are getting accurate answers?” he asked.

“It will answer the questions to the limit of its programming,” the largest alien buzzed. “This unit's designation is MrequeX%&? also known as Mre the Impatient One,”
the largest of the aliens stated as it assigned Mre to answer questions and then departed. From its droopy body language and dimmed colors Mitch deduced that Mre seemed unhappy with the assignment but resigned to it.

“So, you are being punished for transporting us? Why? So many people who weren't supposed to be transported?” Gunny Usher asked.

“I think it was because he left the wormhole open,” Professor Hinkley said slowly. “Your designation nick name is The Impatient One, so you forgot to shut the door when you were finished?”

“Affirmative,”
the alien buzzed.

“But it is shut now?” Mitch asked.

“Affirmative,”
the alien said. A few of the larger Memes left, drifting to the ceiling and then through phasing through it. Smaller ones followed but a dozen or so remained behind.

“Damn,” Professor Hinkley murmured. A few people sighed in frustration. “So much for a route home,” he said. He dodged a small alien as it floated by him. A few circled his head like a halo, then wandered off.

“Why are they here? Your helpers? Or are they here to make sure you complete your punishment?” Anne asked.

“Query error.”

“I'm wondering if they are here for what passes as their curiosity,” Mitch said.

Some of the humans fell away, either reluctantly to do chores, or to follow bodily functions, or out of boredom. Some were fascinated and refused to leave. Others like Colonel Dunn refused to leave but remained in the background and listened. Tucker gave his father a slobbery kiss on the cheek and then took himself off with Ester and the other kids.

Some of the smaller Memes lingered. Evan suggested they break into groups and discuss various subjects with the aliens. Mitch nodded. “Agreed. Computer, make sure you are recording this,” He ordered, touching the Bluetooth device in his ear. “Everyone stay where the cameras can see and record you, we don't want to miss a bit of this. If you can, buddy up and tag team questions,” Mitch suggested.

“Something that's been bugging a few people,” Maggie said as Evan and others grouped together and moved to other rooms. “Something that I know Sandra and Ducky have also probably been losing sleep about, how do we have the same names of stuff? I mean plants and animals. The Barox, the Bolladon just to name a few.”

The small Meme buzzed then bobbed over Mitch's head for a moment.
“When the one known as Mitch Chambers requested information about the reserve one of our number downloaded some information to your neural networks. The information, however, was incomplete.”

“Well, that explains that,” Ducky said.

“It only answers one in general and opens a whole can of worms in another,” Maggie said, shaking her head. She looked at Mitch and winced. “Sorry,” She mumbled.

“Yeah,” he said, shivering atavistically. “I don't think I'll ever be able to have noodles again.”

“Or probably go near the compost heaps,” Maggie said with a frown. “Yeah,” she drawled. “Moving on...”

------*------

Colonel Dunn tried to keep up with all the various groups but failed miserably. He decided he should stick close to Chambers, so he followed him. There was no telling what Chambers would say to the aliens or what they would say to him.

Conspiracy theories danced in his head briefly. Was Chambers an alien? A construct? The medics mentioned cloning...Could he be a biological robot? Or could he have somehow created them? Diego had mentioned something about a movie, Contact or something, where it was theorized that a rich guy had dreamed up first contact for his own purposes...He scowled, no, it wasn't likely. But he decided he'd have to find out the truth by observing.

------*------

Mitch decided he'd rather discuss things with the professors. Sandra left him to stay with Ducky and Maggie. Mitch listened in as Evan, Althoga Raynes, and Professor Hinkley led a spirited talk with the Meme Mre about using gravitational tractors, mass shadows or magnetic fields to encapsulate the load and lift off the ground before they opened a wormhole. Most of the discussion ranged in physics he admitted were far over his head.

“We've hypothesized that you aren't using mass shadows now when you float, nor lighter than air gasses. On the first point, if you were using mass shadows we would feel the interaction, and see it when you projected an interactive field in the form of moving objects such as dust. In the second, you don't smell and we haven't detected gases after your exit.”

“We are not biological constructs,”
the Meme said buzzing.

“We know that. We're hypothesizing your current method of travel. A projection perhaps?” Professor Hinkley asked, turning first to Mitch and Evan for support and then back to the alien.

Mitch remembered his problems with volumetric displays and holography. “How do they do it through solid objects? And in full light?” Mitch asked, shaking his head.

“Energy then, but interacting in another form with the environment in order to float. Fascinating...”

“It could be a mass shadow tugging in a direction opposite us,” Mitch suggested. Both professors turned to him. “You two were thinking repulsion to push against the planet's fields, right? What about attraction to the ceiling or to a mass above? A moon?”

“How...Your species does not have the ability to sense the fields, nor...”
Mre said, clearly confused and alarmed.

“Supposition mostly,” Mitch replied. The physics student nodded, still fascinated. Mitch noted she was taking copious notes with her tablet, and kept pointing cameras up at the bobbing alien. The alien seemed to move about a lot however, forcing her to realize that it was no longer in the view finder and adjust accordingly. “Oh a lot of it is over our heads, I get that. But we've talked about it on Earth for some time now. I also watched the video my computer recorded of the event, and a few people recorded their own transports as well. Then there are the aircraft.”

“Aircraft? The primitive flying metal constructs?”
The alien asked.
“I transported several. One was intentional; the others were accidental.”

“You really did do that??” Professor Hinkley demanded, staring at the alien, for the first time with clear hostility. “You know you killed a lot of good people right?”

“It was not this entity’s intention at the time,”
the alien replied.

“Back to the actual mechanics,” Evan said, resting a hand on Roy's arm. Roy glanced at him frowning. After a moment he nodded a choppy nod. He didn't look happy though.

Miss Raynes looked at the two professors and then up to the alien. “Yes. With each instance you formed a wormhole off the ground. So, supposition, you have to form the wormhole in the air, without direct contact with an object of significant mass. I'm guessing air or water vapor doesn't count. It is too diffuse to matter.”

“Or it is displaced if they form a vacuum,” Evan interjected smoothly. “Moved from one side of the event to the other or consumed by the energy,” he said.

“Yes,” Roy replied, getting his bearings once more. “Which led to the second observations and later supposition, that you encapsulate the subject in a bubble which is both a protective field and a means to move it into the wormhole for transport.”

The alien froze for a long moment, flickering color before it responded.
“You are a surprising species. I understand now why the Conclave ruled you were to be reclassified as inheritors.”

“Oh it's easy to get an idea. It's a lot harder to get the mechanics down so you can replicate it and then ironing out the bugs to put it into regular use. I'm guessing, and this is just a guess,” he frowned thoughtfully. “That you have to use a lot of energy to form the Einstein-Rosen bridge, aka for the laymen among us, wormhole,” he said nodding to Mitch. Mitch nodded back.

“Affirmative. But our programming indicates getting concept even partially correct is half the path to understanding its mechanics.”

“True,” Mitch murmured, looking at the egg heads as they checked their notes. “Knowing something is indeed half the battle,” he said whimsically.

“A wormhole...it uses a lot of energy, which leads us to speculation on your power source. Let's look at that before we get into the mechanics of quantum foam, the Casimir effect, singularities, Kruskal-Szekeres coordinates, cosmic strings, or exotic matter.” Professor Hinkley said. He exhaled slowly. “I can handle some of that, but I freely admit I'm an engineer first. I didn't specialize in astro or quantum physics,” he said shaking his head.