11: The Objections of Gassy Giants

Fighting means you could lose.
Bullying means you can’t.
A bully wants to beat somebody;
he doesn’t want to fight somebody.

Andrew Vachss

“This is our next alternative, named Lamar in honor of our late engineer who gave his life getting us here.” Al stood on the bridge of the Peaceful Avenger, observing their approach. “It’s clearly a more expansive system, with fewer suns, but more planets.”

“There are five smaller worlds and another two immense planets farther out,” The One announced, feeling himself a member of the crew. “That includes two gas giants, beyond Lamar, which exert a strong gravitational pull on it. The gravity is lighter whenever it faces its neighbor.”

“And the planets are habitable?” Etta asked.

“Absolutely,” the One said. “Like Quichoq, this world has a carbon rich environment, plenty of water, abundant rainfall and quite a bit of foliage. The two worlds are similar, though without the temperature extremes. We’ll determine whether it’s better as we continue gathering data.”

“What about the other planets?” Ivan specified, having joined the bridge staff to witness the new worlds firsthand. “Are they of any use?”

“The large bodies contain plenty of complex compounds and minerals, though mining will be difficult due to their strong gravities. We’d need to construct special excavation drones, capable of operating under the gravity constraints. Frankly, the more distant meteors are easier to mine, while the smaller worlds contain more extensive amounts, though they’ll require more excavating to extract. But we’ll need to clear the system debris if you expect much traffic in the future. Quichoq’s was relatively empty by comparison.”

“Yeah, he never had a lot of friends,” Betty quipped.

“Doubtlessly the result of the Inquisitor’s genetic modifications to make them more intimidating, resulting in sociopathic tendencies,” Xi added. Neither was terribly fond of the abuse he’d put their bond-mate through.

“How about the inner planets?” Theo asked.

“Their gravities are weaker, so you’ll have no problems landing or navigating the surface, though only two have much atmosphere to speak of. One is oxygen-rich yet hydrogen-poor, making it inhospitable to life.”

“What about the other,” Al posed, “is it as problematic?”

“It’s not as ideal. Its gravity is less intense and there isn’t much water, but it’s composed of the same carbon and oxygen elements. We’d need to manually develop it to make it similar to Lamar.”

“We’ll call the oxygen-laden one Lamar 2, and the other Lamar 1, as the first and second alternatives,” Al declared.

“Mui will be pleased to see so many of his children, always in his shadow and underfoot,” Ivan teased.

“Since we’ve named this world after him, how about renaming the next ‘Takrrq’, to honor both our lost engineers?” Myi suggested. “That way, they’ll stand together for the rest of time, side by side.

“An excellent suggestion,” Al said. “I’d like to run it by Mui first, just so she’s not caught off guard, but I can’t see any reason for her to object.”

“Since we’re switching names,” Zita said, “how about ‘Beatrice’ for Lamar 2? Since she was composed of silicon, she wouldn’t appreciate the extra hydrogen anyway. It’s a fitting tribute. She represents an entire species that saved us, but also escorted us to the Lezmonom on Lezhomuz.”

“Again, an excellent idea.” Al titled his head, a faraway look about his eyes. “While we’re at it, are there any other requests? We still have several to choose from.”

“I wouldn’t mind naming a planet for Lozzlint, our high priestess,” Triznor said. “It would mean a lot to my people, as would honoring Lozzlint. However, those are best left until we’ve chosen our final home, rather than naming some random rock we’ll never see again.”

“As long as we’re christening stellar bodies after our newest members, why not you?” Al queried. “After all, you’re the face and voice for the Lezmonom.”

“Thank you, but no thanks. I’ll wait until I’m old and decrepit, after I’ve successfully proven myself on a few dangerous missions. Lizzlin has been our spiritual leader since I was a toddler, and has influenced our people more than I. I merely make the daily decisions which need to be approved, while she’s kept our people together, strong and resilient, despite overwhelming odds.”

“Good, I suppose that means we’re done assigning names, at least for now.”

“Great,” Gary teased, “now that you’ve officially named everything, we may as well head on to our next adventure.”

Al chuckled. “Not quite, but there’s little sense having two separate ships waiting for our landing parties. Triznor, I’d like you to investigate Takrrq to see if we can develop it, while we check out Lamar. You can also show Lizzlin her new world. Afterwards we can compare notes. If both are viable, we may have our future expansion plans handled within this one system.”

“Will do, Captain,” she answered. “While I’m eager to explore the new world, I appreciate you respect us enough to assign tasks without second guessing our decisions.”

As the Lozzlint set off on a new trajectory, the bridge fell silent as everyone considered a life here.

“Uh, Captain,” Zita said, falling into the same formality the Lezmonom used, “I’m getting a signal.”

“From the planet?” Al asked, stunned it might already be inhabited.

“No,” she corrected, “as near as I can tell, it’s coming from one of the nearby Gas Giants.”

“Really? Which one?”

“I ... can’t tell. Both body’s surfaces are buried under thick cloud covers which generate random electrical signals. But this is a prolonged radio transmission, but there isn’t much to it.”

“Can you put it through?”

“I can,” she said, doing so, “but I can’t understand any of it.” The sound of a crackling hiss of static filled the room. It sounded like tightly compressed interference, taking on a harsher, insistent tone, like it refused to be ignored.

“Are you sure it’s not a naturally occurring phenomenon?”

“No,” she conceded. “That’s definitely a possibility, but this is an unusually steady signal for a random event. There’s likely something happening under the clouds triggering it. I’m only raising the issue because it’s another anomaly, which we’ve encountered many of on our voyage. As such, I’m not sure we can ignore this any more than the other seemingly pointless side trips which ended up producing results.”

Al listened to it a little more. “It doesn’t sound like anything to me. Try sending a return message. If they’re anyone trying to communicate, they’ll respond. But if it doesn’t take a more coherent form, there’s nothing to worry about.”

“That’s what I figured,” Zita said. “Sorry for disturbing you over nothing, but I didn’t want it to turn out to be something after not mentioning it. I’m sending a response now.” She held her ear and furrowed her brow. “Please retransmit. We’re unable to receive your signal and can’t determine if this is a communication or just static discharges. If we don’t get a recognizable message, we’ll ignore it entirely.”

“It’s all we can do,” Al said, turning to consider the system’s configuration once more. “At this point, we’re not even sure it is an actual transmission.” He hesitated a moment. “One? Could you monitor radiation levels, notably as we’re exposed to new phases of the two gas giants? This might be a precursor of something more serious which may impact us later.”

“I’ll track them and notify you if there are any significant changes.”

“Good, meanwhile, we need to assign landing parties.”

__________
“All right, people,” Al said. “With me relegated to the bridge and unable to participate, I need descriptions to make sense of what we’re dealing with.”

“I’m transmitting the information, so I trust you can see what I’m describing,” Etta reported. “There’s plenty of vegetation. Unlike Quichoq, the forestation is well developed, indicating a stable and persistent ecosystem. The infrared also indicates significant concentrations of animals, though they’re mostly small, there’re still significantly larger than those on Quichoq.”

“Be careful. While they may be small, you don’t know what to expect. They might not respond as you anticipate.”

“Don’t worry, we will,” Gary said. “Lizzle and I are in charge of security and have the last word on what happens. Aside from what Chich’k decides, that is. We also have Triliz and Lox, so they can warn us about any surprises. They’ve been practicing, imagining a variety of possibilities, so I trust they’ll detect anything we’re likely to face.”

“Keep an eye on Chich’k,” Al cautioned. “She likes to disappear. If there are strange animals about, there’s no telling what she may encounter.”

Gary laughed. “If you know how to control the little minx, I’m willing to listen to any suggestions. But seriously, if there’s anyone I don’t worry about, it’s her. She’s experienced more combat than any of us and is comfortable anywhere she goes, from small enclosures to tall trees or sheer cliffs. Given her diminutive size, everyone she confronts underestimates her, but she’s deadly when needed.”

“I take it she’s not planning on retaining her suit?”

“It’s currently sitting at the base of a nearby tree. She can climb faster than we can launch a drone.”

“What about your landing spots? Are they secure?”

“Team one, which I’m leading, is heading for a clearing a fair distance from the overgrown forests. We can observe what’s happening, so we’re unlikely to be surprised. The area does contain fairly tall grasses, so we’ll still need to be careful.

“The second, led by Lizzle, is on their way to a sizable lake with a wide beach, which provides a decent buffer from any immediate dangers.”

“We’re splitting our team,” she reported. “Leaving a few people on the surface, two Lezmonom will submerge the shuttle to study the aquatic life this world supports.”

“Are they versed in handling them underwater? I must admit, even us old-timers haven’t done it much, aside from when we first met One.”

“They’ve been researching it, but obviously have no practical experience, which is partially why they’re doing it. They know how problematic it is, so they’ll be careful.”

“The shuttle is capable to maneuvering on its own,” the One detailed. “The crew will manage it, but it can take over if they do anything wrong. Since they’re encased in a vessel used in warfare, generating its own oxygen and they won’t interact with anything externally, they’re safer than anyone else.”

“Okay, keep me updated,” Al said, concluding his transmission. “Triznor, how are your landing parties doing?”

“Everything is fine so far,” she confirmed. “Unlike your people, there isn’t any wildlife to worry about here. While there’s vegetation, it’s primitive. Lozzlin’s proximity to the sun presumably vaporized its humidity, splitting the water molecules, allowing the unconstrained hydrogen to escape into space, and producing a predominately ozone-based atmosphere. While having extra oxygen sounds nice, it isn’t conducive to life. There’s plenty of air and adequate humidity for simple life forms, but not enough for complex organisms. The life is similar to Lezhomuz: chiefly algae, mosses and fungi, though it’s external here, so it’s still richer than what we had.”

“So Lizzlin isn’t looking promising. Can you tell us anything about Beatrice?”

“It’s nearer the sun, so there’s no life at all. I’d say both planets are a dead end, though we’re gathering Lozzlin’s simple entities to see whether we can add to those we brought from Lezhomuz. We’re also considering ways of introducing additional hydrogen to the atmosphere to augment theirs and facilitate rain. As you’re aware, our oxygen and water recycling isn’t totally efficient. We vent our excess hydrogen into space. If we released it here, we can create yet another productive world in this one system. While algae are simpler organisms, they still consume components in the air and generate additional oxygen, multiplying the effects of any hydrogen we introduce.

“Our biologist, Nikltt, is having a field day expanding her limited specialized knowledge and gathering abundant samples.”

“Sorry to interrupt,” the One said, “but the signals from the Gas Giants are continuing. There are more than before, they’re occurring simultaneously, and the ... volume and pitch have increased. Suspecting there’s more here than meets the eye; I’ve run an analysis on the supposed static. Though there are multiple natural signals on both worlds, the steady signal originates from the nearest one. There’s a surprising consistency to it, more than you’d expect in a spontaneous event. Yet there’s nothing I can decipher from the patterns I’m uncovering.”

Al glanced up as he considered the information. “Compile the signals into an easily digestible form using standard Tandorian letters.” He turned to his bridge crew. “Zita, I think we require your telepathy skills again.”

Her eyes unfocused, before dilating again. “Sorry, I’m not getting anything. I hear a faint buzz when I attune myself to it, but can’t make any sense of it. We’re too far from the source.”

“It’s executive decision time. Landing parties, you’re on your own for the moment. I trust you can take care of yourselves, as you’re well equipped and well trained. We’ll pick you up once we’re finished investigating these mysterious signals, but we need to speak to some gassy giants.”

“You’re putting me in a difficult position,” Zita complained. “I still have no clear idea what I’m doing.”

“Yet, you’re achieving phenomenal successes with it. That was always my aim: take people with initiative, who show commitment and a willingness to experiment, and let them take charge. Invariably, wonderful things happen. We may make a few missteps, but the good outweighs the bad.”

“I suggest you don’t mention that rousing platitude to Mui. She’s unlikely to appreciate your taking her personal loss so lightly.”

“No,” Al said, frowning, but not glancing away. “I’m mindful of her grief, and my part in orchestrating it. Yet we now have an extensive, more qualified crew than we ever imagined. Without that approach, we wouldn’t be where we stand today.” He glanced at the display of the system. “One, have you been able to isolate the signals’ origin?”

“Yes, it’s from the nearest gas-ball,” he said, revealing his rare sense of humor.

“Let’s see who’s trying to speak to us. Zita, review One’s summary of their most common phrases and see if you can associate them with the underlying concepts. It’s time we began compiling an official dictionary. One, what do we know of sentience on such planets? Do the Tandorians have much experience with similar entities?”

“Technically, all conscious species are sentient, though due to my extended stay on Earth, I understand what you’re asking. Advanced cultures on gas giants aren’t uncommon, though their possessing any capacity to interact with material things is. Because of the intense gravity, life evolves floating well above any physical items they can use as tools. Thus such intelligence is both rare and undeveloped. They’re limited to communicating with those nearest, but unable to communicate long distance.”

“Are you sure it’s wise leaving everyone behind?” one of the Lezmonom bridge crew asked.

“Gary, Lizzle; are you confident you’ll be safe on your own?”

“Yeah, things appear pretty secure here. We’ve landed and nothing has eaten us yet,” he answered with an easy chuckle.

“I’m supervising our people onshore,” Lissle said, “while our shuttle is presently submerged and investigating the depths. We’re fine on our own. If we’re not allowed to make a few mistakes, we’ll never be trusted to assume command positions. Go ahead. You need answers and we can wait a little longer. If nothing else, we have plenty of medical care if anything happens.”

“You heard them, let’s go a visit’n.” Al leaned back, watching Lamar slide from view as the still distant gas giant grew in prominence on their display.

__________
“Are you receiving anything?” Al inquired. Zita hunched over her station holding her head with her eyes closed. A cluster of Lezmonom children huddled around her. “We’re getting close enough to feel the pull of the planet’s gravity, which will strain our engines. The ship can keep us steady, but it’s tricky maintaining our position.”

Rather than answering, she idly waved a hand without opening her eyes. The youth poised over their datapods, watching expectantly. Her eyes popped open and everyone straightened, leaning in to catch whatever she might say. Instead, she simply stared into the air before her. Several moments later, she entered a correction into her datapod, generating a whirlwind of activity with each child racing through their own, changing various words in their prepared documents. As they continued, she froze again, until jotting something else.

“I’m guessing she can hear them, but hasn’t yet figured out what they’re saying,” Betty ventured.

“One was right,” Zita said, not glancing back and keeping her eyes closed. “There’s a whole chorus of different voices, all shouting at once. It’s deafening, even through a mental connection.” Like ripples, each notation she made spread as the kids simultaneously entered them into their more extensive recordings. Each new word increased the associations with other terms, vastly expanding their vocabulary.

“I must say, they’re certainly pulling their weight,” Al noted to their teacher standing beside him.

“They’re eager to help. They want to serve, but were relegated to studying everything which has changed since they first learned it. Being able to make a difference is significant. They’ll brag about it all month.”

“It’s a phenomenal task, probably better done by One, but I’m glad they’re so actively involved.”

She shook her head. “He’s got enough to monitor. We’d rather he not crash the ship by conducting too many routine tasks while wrestling with unfamiliar conditions.”

“I’ve contacted someone specific,” Zita declared, waving her hand. “He’s shouting for everyone else to shut up.” Waiting, she made more corrections, sending the children into a renewed burst of activity, before hesitating.

“No, No, Go way. No way,” she recited.

“I’m getting a strong ‘no’ vibe here,” Al reflected.

“They repeat it a lot. It was the first word I identified. Just like with the Zitorians, we don’t have any common references.”