Second Chances (125 page)

“You're thinking about a Morris-Thorne wormhole?” Evan asked, turning to Roy. Roy shrugged.

“Over my head,” Mitch murmured.

“What he's saying is a hypothesis that came out in the late eighties,” Miss Raynes said in an aside to Mitch. “One of the first ideas of a traversable wormhole I think,” she said softly. “Where the object is wrapped in exotic matter and moved through dimensions,” she explained.

“Okay, clear as mud,” Mitch said. She glanced at him. He smiled. “I don't have to understand it; let's let the Meme explain,” he said. She nodded.

“Do you feed or...power yourselves?” Evan asked.

“Can you survive in space, wait, yes, a vacuum wouldn't effect an energy being. I'm curious about containment of the energy...” Roy asked a beat behind Evan, clearly on the same thought lines.

“One thing at a time fellas,” Mitch pitched in.

“Well, it reflects with their data versus power too,” Evan mused. Roy looked at him in amusement.

“Power as you consider it is from the Conclave. All must return to a meeting place when they require it.”

“Translation conflict. Where are the Conclaves?”

“Near singularities,”
the alien buzzed.

Evan nodded in understanding. “Ah, black holes, stars...I wonder if you can skim free electrons or some other form of power you can digest from the interaction of magnetic or gravitational fields,” Evan theorized, seemingly excited by the concept.

“If they consumed or cloaked themselves in dark matter too that could link to the Morris-Thorne theory,” Roy said.

“True. But it could be something as simple as drawing energy from the Seebeck method. Or their version.”

“It could also be solar or another form of electromagnetic consumption,” Mitch said. All three scientists looked at him in amusement. He shrugged. “Or maybe they feed off the energy that is transformed from the crushed mass?”

Roy blinked and then pursed his lips. “If they went that route. The other ways are diffuse...But to gather it...would take years to get enough for one wormhole! Can you consume vast amounts of energy that quickly? You can't gather it...”

“Others of the Conclave do the gathering then pass it on to those who need it,”
the alien replied.

“A cast system,” Mitch murmured. “So what you are saying is the Conclave isn't just a place of information, a hive mind, it's also a place to recharge. Something like a feeder station,” Mitch said. The others looked to him. “What?”

“We need more information,” Roy said. “And to slow it down. It is difficult to digest all at once. My head feels like it's going to implode.”

“Can you use the wormholes to time travel?” Miss Raynes asked suddenly intent.

The alien darkened.
“Negative. Such actions are forbidden.”

“Ah. So you know it is possible in theory, but you are prevented due to your coding. Fascinating,” Evan murmured.

“For you...to grasp such things without seeing them, without experiencing them...”
The Meme seemed fascinated and disturbed.

“We have a vivid imagination as I said,” Mitch replied smoothly. “I think just rebuilding our civilization and its technology will consume a lot of time, years. A local decade or two most likely, though we'll do our level best to shorten that time period if possible. It will be a very long time before we can delve into your mysteries,” Mitch said wryly. The physics student nodded mournfully. “Not that we won't speculate in our free time,” Mitch said, cocking his head to her. Miss Raynes nodded, this time smiling ever so slightly. He winked at her. Her smile became an outright grin.

“Truth. But your species has surprised us before....”

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

Adrian looked up to the meter long alien and asked for a translation of the material they left on the map. “It's been frustrating the hell out of me and the computer for years now,” he said, thoroughly disgusted. “I love puzzles, but damn it, give me a clue here. Something. Anything,” he said.

“Query not understood. Elucidate further,”
one of the Memes said. It turned as others floated closer out of interest.

Adrian looked at Chief Roberts in exasperation. The SEAL snorted. “He means the map. One of your...people came by and marked up the map we had been generating with your symbols. We've been trying to understand it ever since,” he explained. He pulled up a tablet and used it to access the image. Then he turned and flicked it to the main screen. The computer interpreted that to mean to put the image on the main screen and did so.

The larger of the aliens went to the video screen and touched it, making the screen's image fritz a bit before it backed off.
“One of our number did this?”

“Yes. A small one,” Chief Roberts stated. He used his hands to indicate one of the tiny Memes.

“We can't understand the language. The symbols...there is no common...” Adrian pointed to them. “Are the numbers? People?”

“We thought they were written in microtype but an examination of the original map disproved that hypothesis,” the SEAL said.

“Understood. Error. The image is not in our database.”

“We...okay...” Adrian turned to the chief in confusion.

The large alien traced the image at a distance then turned.
“Error. Misunderstanding. Symbology assumption led to error.”

“I think he means we assumed it was symbology,” the SEAL said, eyes lighting as he caught on. “Symbols. But it's not? Is that what you are telling us?”

“What the hell is it then?” Adrian demanded.

“Scratches,” Tina murmured. They turned to her. “You said a small one made it right?” The two men nodded. “Well, there you go. A
kid
did it,” she said.

Travis's eyes flared in sudden understanding as he caught on and remembered the kid’s scrawls.

“You are shitting me!” Adrian said, now thoroughly upset. “Are you...and we...” he shook his head.

Travis chuckled. “Apparently yes, we've been trying to translate a child's scribbles,” he said.

“Shit,” Adrian said in disgust.

“It makes sense now. They are constructed. They don't have a written language like we do. Code maybe, but...” Travis shrugged.

“I thought the language was their maker's...ah hell,” Adrian scowled. He got a thought and looked up, still scowling. “How do you transfer or record information then?” He demanded. “You know, records?”

“Query understood. Answer, the Conclave transfers the information to inactive storage until needed.”

“No, I meant how do you pass it from one being to another? Like we do?” Adrian said, trying to hold onto his patience.

“The information is copied from one entity to another as needed.”

“He's saying they create an electronic memory file, possibly of an event, then save it, and copy it as needed,” Arby translated, coming into the room behind them. They glanced at him and then nodded.

“I gathered that much,” Adrian said dryly. “Freaking aliens, wasting my time,” he muttered under his breath. Tina shot him an amused but sympathetic look.

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

Sandra abandoned the discussion with Maggie and Ducky and tracked Mitch down. She found him near a small alien. He'd given up on trying to keep up with the scientists.

“You okay?” she asked, stroking his shoulders. “Not too tired?”

“No,” he said, patting her arm. “This is great,” he said, smiling.

She smirked. “I figured as much.”

“I wonder what Tucker is making of all of it.”

“Tucker!” Her eyes went wide.

“He's fine. I saw him go off with Ester. Remember when he was here earlier? Climbed in my lap?”

“Oh. Okay,” she murmured. “You should rest,” she said into his ear.

“Hang on,” he said, holding her arm before she could rush off. “You may want to hear this,” he said.

“Hear what?”

“The answer.” He looked up to the alien. “We were wondering how you understand us. We're foreign to you. How can you communicate with us? I know it's not telepathic, we have video and audio recordings...”

The Meme explained they could understand humans because they created an interface to receive the human brain's electrical energy and interpret it. They could then vibrate appendages to create sound since humans can't receive such information through “proper means.”

“You do not have the ability to transfer information through other biological means? This method is crude and prone to error. It is also...slow,
” the alien said. Mitch snorted, noting the scientists as they followed Mre over to their conversation.

“Sorry, no, we're not telepaths. There are times when it would be nice to just download something but...” Mitch said. He shrugged. “There are privacy and ethical considerations.”

“One thing bothers me...” Sandra started.

“One thing?” Mitch teased with a half-smile.

“Mitch's ability. And others. I'm assuming there are others...why him?” Sandra asked, ignoring her husband.

Mre pulsed, taking over the conversation.
“His ability intrigued the investigator assigned to acquire specimens of your species. A waver from the Conclave allowed him to be transported. It works on a quantum level, one we are programmed to use. That initially attracted our attention. His age was suboptimal for the transport group, but this ability merited further study and preservation.”

“Gee, thanks,” Mitch said dryly.

“In some ways he is as you would term, a telepath. He is accessing our information network on a rudimentary level.”

“Ah,” Sandra said, looking at her husband. “That explains a few things.” She wrapped her arms around his neck and shoulders. “I still love you anyway.”

“So you are in communication with them, even if you don't know it,” Evan said, looking at Mitch in wonder.

“I do now apparently,” Mitch grunted. He checked the various video feeds and made certain everything was being recorded.

“Conform change to genome early due to tool user status. Supposition of advanced tool use status and concept manipulation confirmed. Error, device classified as primitive.”

“Translation anyone?” Sandra said with a hint of exasperation in her voice.

“He's asking or commenting about this,” Mitch explained, holding up the tablet in his lap. “Yes it is a recording device and advanced tool for manipulation of devices and electronic data,” he said. “We don't want to lose the information you are imparting to us, and as one of your number stated,” he nodded to the smaller Meme, “Our verbal method of data transfer is crude and prone to error. So, I am recording everything for further review.”

“Understood. Query, you're species does not pass on information through biological means at all?”

Sandra patiently explained that humans do not pass long term information down from generation to generation that way. “We learn it, then teach it to our children or others,” she said. “Sometimes by example, by showing them what we're doing, then have them emulate. But sometimes in books or by other means,” she said.

“Answer logged for further discussion by the Conclave.”

“What about the other tool users on this planet? And the other planets in this system? How many are there? How many systems? One? Ten? A thousand?”

“You are aware of the other tool users on this planet?”

“Three of them,” Evan supplied. “Those are the ones we have currently confirmed. We haven't attempted contact yet, however.”

“Error. Such a task is outside our programming,”
the alien replied, pulsing.

“You do realize you have a lot of tool users, right? We tend to explore, look for new places to go, expand...I'm curious how many have made contact with other species? Were they hostile encounters?” Mitch mused. “Do you know?”

“Query logged. This unit will investigate,”
Mre stated. It spun slowly and then rose up through the ceiling. Every other Meme popped out or drifted up and away a moment later. The humans gasped or protested in dismay but were ignored.

“Way to go dunderhead, now he's gone!” Someone in the background growled.

“He was looking for an excuse. You gave him one. It's like the dejin of myth. Or leprechauns,” Mussad Harif Nasad said, bowing slightly to Sandra. She smiled and nodded in understanding. “Give them a chance, and they will wiggle out and escape.”

“He'll be back,” Mitch said wearily, not ready to admit how fatigued he was, and how glad he was that they had left. He felt a little petty over such emotions, he knew it was wrong to want to be in on everything. After all, they were recording it all, he could and would review it later. “I didn't expect him to be so literal and just pop out though,” he admitted.