HC-66,
Box 11014
Pahrump,
NV 89060
©2001 by W. E. Lopez
The Sentinel
By
W. E. Lopez
“What do you mean, it’s
alive?” Sharon Draper asked. In spite
of the fact that the lab’s electric heaters were operating at full force, she
wore a heavy parka, wool gloves, and could still see the moisture in her breath
condensing in the air in front of her face.
“That’s the only way I can explain the random patterns and images the computer has been generating,” Max Stephens answered. “Somehow the rock samples possess an inherent intelligence and have the capacity to generate an electro-magnetic field which influences our mainframe.”
Sharon could almost see her name in the headlines now, “Science Officer Discovers Silicon Life Form on Io!” She would no doubt receive a Nobel Prize as the first to discover intelligent life in the solar system, life that was not native to Earth. The fact that Stephens had actually made the discovery was secondary, for she was the senior scientist among the 11 men and women on the Jovian moon.
Io had been an enigma since
the first Voyager flybys in 1979. The
moon possessed the hottest volcanoes yet discovered in the solar system while
most of the surface was composed of ice and rock at a temperature of –229 F.
“And what’s your hypothesis,
Max?”
“It has to be inorganic
life, Dr. Draper. We’ve ample evidence
of such occurring on Earth. Mineral
compounds that absorb nutrients directly from other minerals have been known
since the 1980’s. It’s not an illogical
extension to assume that in the heavy magnetic and gravitational fields of
Jupiter, these silicate compounds could form naturally occurring
semiconductors. With billions and
billions of such semiconductors continually switching on and off, the random
patterns could evolve into an artificial intelligence after millions and
millions of years.”
“You mean you believe this
entire moon can be a sentient being, Max?”
“Why not, doctor? We’ve always known Artificial Intelligence
would be created in the laboratory, one day.
Why couldn’t it evolve accidentally out here, nearly 500 million miles
from the sun?”
“Before we call out the
marching bands, Max, if this is an intelligent life form, we’re going to have
to establish communication with it.”
“I’m trying that now, doctor, but our mainframe doesn’t have
sufficient speed and memory for such a large program. I’m relaying all our data to the giant Cray-17 on Luna. Because of the latency caused by speed of
light, we cannot expect to receive any information from Luna in less than 69
minutes for the round trip.”
“Damn! When will the engineers find a way for us to
get around the limitation of ‘c’?”
Before Max could answer, the
lab was rocked by a severe tremor that set alarm bells jangling throughout the six
domes of the facility. “All hands, all
personnel, assemble in the cafeteria immediately!” came the voice of Commander
John Kramer over the public address.
Sharon and Max swarmed
through the umbilical tube connecting each dome to the other, not forgetting to
shut the gas-tight doors in case there had been a breech in the stations
hull. When all eleven scientists and
crew were assembled in the refectory, Kramer spoke to them.
“Gentlemen,” he said, “and
ladies,” with a slight bow to Sharon and Virginia Westcott, “a fissure has
opened not more than 300 meters from the periphery of this station. I’ve been forced to request an evacuation
shuttle from our main base on Ganymede.
Observations using our optical pyrometer indicate a slow but steady lava
flow of more than 12,000 degrees Fahrenheit.
Dr. Lessing tells me that it is impossible for lava to reach that
temperature naturally; nevertheless, it has.”
All the members of the
research facility were warmly dressed, for conditions on Io were intensely
cold, yet now it appeared the intense heat of the new volcano would destroy
them.
The data terminal at one end
of the mess hall winked on and bleeped with an audible tone. “Finally, a reply from Luna,” Max said. He rushed to the console and seated himself. A stream of text flashed across the screen
and the computer automatically went into download mode.
“The super computer on Luna
has analyzed the data I sent them a few hours ago. We’re downloading an interpreter program now,” Max told them.
“What?” Commander Kramer
asked. “Why wasn’t I informed of this?”
“The data was not conclusive
at the time, John. I think we’re
getting an answer now.” Max moved aside
from the terminal display so each member of the crew could see the text scrolling
across the screen.
…. UNAUTHORIZED DESTRUCTION
OF FILES AT SECTOR VK3, TRACK 100101…. SOURCE?…. ORGANIC INFECTIONS….
TEMPERATURE CHANGES DESTROYING TRACK STABILITY… CORRECTIVE ACTION…?
“Christ! You were right, Max!” Sharon shouted.
“About what?” Dr. Lessing
asked.
“This entire satellite, the
moon we call Io, is one huge collection of naturally occurring
semi-conductors. In effect, it is the
first successful virtual intelligence we have ever encountered.”
…REFORMAT…. STORE NEW DATA
AT SECTOR AND TRACK ADDRESS…. The text continued to scroll across the
screen. Every so often the cursor would
stop until new text could be loaded.
“That explains the apparent
randomness of the volcanic action,” Sharon said. “I’m afraid there is no hope for us. The rescue shuttle couldn’t possibly arrive in time.”
“What do you mean, Sharon?”
Commander Kramer asked.
“I mean we are about to be
deleted, John. Erased files on the huge
disk that is the surface of this satellite.”
“She’s right,” Max glumly
contributed. “This satellite is one
solid cybernetic organism. It records
data in sectors and tracks on the surface.
When a track becomes damaged, the brain we call Io rewrites the sector,
the same way we apply a laser to a CD.
Only this brain uses volcanic heat to reformat the sector.”
Sharon Draper pulled her
parka closer around her. There would be
no Nobel Prize for her. In spite of the
mind numbing cold outside, it appeared she and her companions would shortly be
cremated.