This is a fan translation of Road to Mars (Дорога к Марсу) by fifteen Russian science fiction writers.
This chapter was written by Leonid Kudryavtsev.
I claim no rights to the contents herein.
Chapter 34
Three Questions and One Answer
Face twitching a little, eyes glinting feverishly. And the movements were a little convulsive, nervous. A familiar picture.
"I'm here to sing to you all!" Givens informed him. "And you personally are going to love my song, for it echoed in my head without stopping, it has captured my arms, legs, and is about to pour out of my mouth. You see, I can't not share it. And I've also heard a voice, and it told me many interesting things. First there was a story about poor Indians, and then it appeared."
"The voice?" Jeubin asked.
"Exactly," Givens confirmed, smiling blissfully. "And it was in my head. Imagine that. Strange, isn't it?"
"Nothing strange about that. I hear voices too sometimes. But they're very different, of course. Maybe we can introduce them."
"Introduce them?"
"Yeah. It's very simple. What's important is for them to talk inside each of us at the same time. Simultaneously. Then we can introduce them to each other mentally. Then, in order to distract the voices with our own thoughts, we can get alcohol involved. Either beer, a lot of beer, or something stronger. In a few hours, they'll become friends and, mark my words, they won't be able to part ever again. They'll be paying each other a visit all the time. Do you see the benefits?"
While speaking that, Jeubin set the syringe aside and picked up another. Filling it from the ampoule whose contents were perfectly appropriate to the situation, he walked up to Givens.
"What are the benefits?" the other man asked.
"It's simple." Jeubin stuck the syringe into his friend's shoulder and started injecting him with the medicine. "We'll be able to learn more great mysteries, hear an entire set of incredible revelations, and, I guarantee it, we'll be aware of the personal lives of those talking to us. I assure you, it's worth it."
"Really? And what is it that you've—"
"Don't worry about it. It's just going to give you strength, improve your mood. You'll have to do much, won't you?"
"Of course. I must, I have to tell… tell everyone what the voice told me. It's important. Do you have any idea how important it is?"
"Of course," Jeubin confirmed.
"As soon as possible…"
"You're right. But now, since we can't delay, you should get some rest. I assure you, it's going to make things go much faster. Just like that… sleep."
Three minutes later, Jeubin confirmed that Givens really had departed into the land of dreams and allowed himself to relax.
He'd nearly fled the room in surprise initially. Even jumped up. Anyone would've been shocked at such a surprise. Then again, it was about time they got used to them on this flight. Only the voices bothered him. Without a doubt, there was hope that they were a temporary phenomenon, that they were going to go away.
Then again…
Jeubin looked at Givens with concern and shook his head slightly.
Practice told him that the voices typically appeared for a long time. Sure, if he tried and did everything right, they'd go away, but then they would be back, they definitely would.
Now the Caretaker was a wall. Well, only a part of it, no more than a millimeter thick, but three meters long, from the floor to the ceiling, along with the braces.
It liked this state. It brought balance and confidence. Here it could not worry about anything and try to find answers several important questions.
What was it? Where had it come from? Where was it going?
Nothing special, was it? Any thinking being asked itself those questions. And the ones surrounding it were handing him already prepared answers. But where were they, those surrounding it? It wasn't going to talk to the humans, was it? The simple test for mental capabilities the Caretaker had run on one of them after catching him at the right moment and making him play a game it had invented for the purpose proved that human intelligence was insufficient.
No, it would be madness to count on them. It would be like those same humans calling upon their domestic animals to calculate the energy costs of turning a steel bar into graphite. Even approximately. Not that they were capable of that themselves.
Besides, why was it so concerned about them? Why would it hide from them? The humans had no capability of harming it, as it could easily take on any shape and give its body any capability. Was it necessary to fear them?
In addition, the humans were somehow connected to its primary questions. Maybe with their help it would be able to find a starting point to calculate the answers. And it would require a large amount of energy.
Speaking of energy, wasn't it time to get started with eating? It was easier to do it now since it had already done all the possible calculations with this particular wall more than once.
The Caretaker tensed its body. It enjoyed the sensation of the wave of eating run through it, changing it, accepting and absorbing, making the next layer of the wall its own. As before, it had only eaten a fraction of a millimeter from it, which the humans would, of course, fail to notice. As usual, it remembered to apply the necessary colors to the bare wall, making it look the way it had been prior to the eating. As always, after absorbing the required amount of substances, it extracted everything extraneous from its body, turning it into fine dust that would be carried away by the ventilation stream. More than likely, it would get trapped in the filters. Or not. What would happen in that case?
The answer to that question was simple. The humans would inhale it. It would become a part of their bodies, it would have an effect them.
The Caretaker found the last thought amusing.
Yet another effect. Maybe that explained the strange behavior the humans occasionally exhibited. And, if it really wished it, the air they needed to survive would be filled with substances capable of, at the very least, causing them to see hallucinations or temporarily confusing them.
Stop, the Caretaker told itself. It wasn't going to do anything like that intentionally. It wouldn't benefit it in any way. Wouldn't it be better to think about how to remove the extraneous substances from its body? The same method it had used at the beginning of the flight? It had used up a lot of energy, but there was no other way.
The recognition brought with it negative emotions, and, in order to get rid of them, the Caretaker decided to move around a little. It even permitted itself to slowly crawl over to a new section of the wall. It was pleasant to feel its body gradually cover more and more space. And the area of the untouched surface under it kept growing. Untouched by it, that was. The humans had been touching it, a lot. While crawling over their tracks slowly, it could feel every spot left from a distant touch of a hand, each piece of the surface that had been oxidized by it. They were magnificent to the taste, giving it pleasant sensations and containing plenty of unusual substances.
Humans, it thought finally, feeling itself calm and pleased once again. Was that why they existed? Then again, they probably had other functions useful to it. It would be great to discover them.
Oh, and it would have to do something about their restless behavior. What was worse? Actions that often looked insane or, for example, the shock the humans experienced after finding the incense stick it had made? All it had been doing was transforming the substances useless to its vital activity, turning them into something least harmful.
How and in which system could it calculate the answer to that question? And did it have a connection to the three primary questions that had to do with the meaning of its existence?
What was it? Where had it come from? Where was it going?
It didn't even have to try hard to summarize all its knowledge on these questions. A human would've probably panicked in its place, but the Caretaker wasn't human. First, it admitted that it had absolutely no idea what it was. It definitely knew it wasn't human, but nothing more than that. Where had it come from? That also remained unknown. There were a few vague images in its memories, and one of them had to do with economy, while the other involved a number of humans conversing about something. Where was it going, what was its goal? Nothing but darkness and emptiness.
It could've been more, the Caretaker summarized. Then again, if one knew how to calculate, then one could always find a starting point.
First, it had to figure out why it hadn't even thought of such questions until recently. Did that mean it was changing, learning, maturing? Did that mean that, at some point in the past, probably very recently, there had been a moment when it didn't realize its full capabilities? Something similar to a human childhood? And before that, had there been a birth? All living beings it knew about were born and had parents. This meant it had them too. So why not try to calculate how what they looked like? And what was stopping it from using those calculations to determine the place its parents lived? That was who might be able to answer its questions.
The Caretaker was about to get started, but then the humans activated. The cause for that was new space that had docked to theirs. It seemed a number of the humans were planning on going there and then use it to get to another space that was significantly larger.
Now that was entirely incomprehensible. There were enough resources to live here. They could think anywhere. So why bother going anywhere else? But should it interfere with their efforts? Did it care?
Feeling annoyed at the somewhat irrational behavior of the ones it was observing, the Caretaker tracked the humans transfer to the new space and settle there. Now there was an even number of them in each compartment. Such a decision pleased it from a mathematical standpoint.
The Caretaker wanted to get back to its calculations, but it suppressed the temptation. Any task had to be completed. That included simple observation.
A moment later, the Caretaker discovered the answer to one of the three questions bothering it. Where was it going? Why had it been born? Now it was totally clear. The knowledge had come from inside, it was complete and undeniable, as if someone had placed it in storage long ago, and now the vault was open, revealing its contents. The knowledge was based on the difference between the numbers four and three. And it stated that, if the space it was in had fewer than four living humans, then it would be time for it to demonstrate its knowledge and skills, and do it as effectively as possible.
In order to calculate its subsequent actions, the Caretaker only needed a few seconds. Then it got to work.