hotmtlnovel Book 5: Chapter 5: Mystery System
Book 5: Chapter 5: Mystery System
Book 5: Chapter 5: Mystery System
Icarus
September 2320
Entering alien system
It took slightly more than five years to decelerate, and several more years to get to the source of the anomaly itself. But we weren’t going to charge in like gangbusters. The microwave radiation we’d detected resolved into two point sources from this distance. The possible explanations that came immediately to mind were alien technology or something natural, like micro black holes. Either was a good argument for caution.
We had also decided that regardless of what we found, this would be a good place to set up an autofactory to start sending SCUT relays back toward human space. It could take decades to establish a connection with the rest of the Bobiverse, but it was worth the effort. SCUT was only good for about twenty-five light-years, but between the expansion of human-controlled space and Bill hopefully sending out some relays from his end, we might possibly connect up in less time than expected. And if we resumed heading for the galactic core in the meantime, we’d have the autofactory also send relays along our path to extend the connection.
But first, the point sources. They were situated at the extreme edge of the system, effectively in its Kuiper belt, separated by about ten degrees along their common orbit. We came in slowly toward the closer anomaly, navigation lights on full, not wanting to alarm anyone if this was a populated artifact.
Instead, we found ... nothing.
Well, not quite nothing. There were two smallish satellites or space stations on either side of the source of the radiation. A quick check of the astrometrics showed that they were situated at a right angle to the galactic plane, which was considerably at variance with the orbital plane of this system. I wondered if that was by design.
Meanwhile, the radiation was coming from the empty region between the space stations. Specifically, from a ring of empty space perhaps a kilometer in diameter.
“This is really annoying,” I commented.
Dae grunted in reply, then added, “I’m going to circle the area. Maybe the radiation signature is directional.”
“And that will prove ... ?”
“Damned if I know. But data is data.”
I watched on my holotank as his vessel began to describe a slow circle around the mystery area. Then he muttered, “What the hell?”
“Is that a good ‘what the hell’ or a bad ‘what the hell’?” I asked.
“Well, I’m not being shot at, if that’s what you’re asking. But the view within the radiation ring is weird.”
“Weird is not actionable. Little more detail?”
“The star patterns within the circle don’t quite match the star patterns outside the circle,” Dae said. “There’s a slight discontinuity, as if they’re being viewed from another angle. But it’s overall the same stars. Also, there’s distortion around the edge that looks sort of like what you get from a black hole.”
“Uh, black hole is bad. We should—”
“No gravity well, Icky. I’d have noticed.”
“So some kind of lensing effect?”
“Maybe. Except it’s amazingly symmetrical. I’ve done a quarter revolution around the anomaly, and the behavior is unchanged. What kind of lens is spherical but doesn’t distort the view?” ⱤåɴỔ฿ΕS̩
A light bulb went on in my head. “Ohhhhhhhh ... ”
“Solar flare? Nearby supernova?”
“We’re less than a hundred light-years from Earth, Dae. A supernova would have taken humanity out as well. And a flare from the local sun would be at least somewhat directional. No way it would take out everyone.”
“Well, then, I’m out of ideas. Want to abort the spy mission and just fly in?”
“Suits me.”
*****
Now we wanted to attract attention, so we flew into the inner system under power, spewing radio noise and blinking our nav lights like a nightclub decoration.
Might as well not have bothered.
We weren’t challenged, scanned, shot at, photographed, radar-locked, or even dismissed with a good old-fashioned harrumph. This system was dead and abandoned. However, it appeared to be the tidiest, most organized abandoned civilization I’d ever seen. The impression was more like the old family summer cabin back in Minnesota. At the end of the season, there was a checklist to shut off the water and gas, shutter the windows, put away all the tools, lock up the shed, and pull down all the blinds. It felt like this civilization had gone on vacation, expecting to return.
The civilization appeared to be centered on the home planet, the second from the sun—obvious by the degree of urbanization; the next planet out, which appeared to be habitable, based on the lack of domes in its cities; the home planet’s largest moon, which did have domed cities; and one small O’Neill cylinder in a solar orbit. Both habitable planets showed chlorophyll lines, indicating plant life.
“Well, I’m at a loss,” I muttered. We’d just buzzed the largest moon of the home planet, passing within visual distance of several moon bases. No way automated systems could possibly have missed us. But we might as well have been ghosts.
“I say we land,” Dae announced. “If they can ignore that, I give up.”
Of course, we weren’t going to land our ships. That would be beyond foolish. But a couple of drones, filled with curious roamers, seemed appropriate. I would have liked to go down in a couple of mannies—the remotely controlled androids that Bill had invented—but Dae and I had never seen a reason to build any. Maybe that would have to change. I was pretty sure we’d received the plans at some point.
The home planet was the obvious place to start. We landed two drones on different continents, with Dae controlling one and me controlling the other. I frame-jacked up a little so I could keep up with my drone while also peeking over Dae’s shoulder to see what he was finding.
The inhabitants of this system obviously loved to build up. Every city of any size consisted mainly of high-rises, and those seemed to average just over two hundred stories. Clearly there was some novel construction technology involved. Lots of park space between the towers, too. But the bird’s-eye view didn’t tell us much, so we directed our drones to land.
The first thing I noticed was that there was no dirt in the streets. It might seem trivial, but I’d watched Life After People back when I was still alive—okay, back when Original Bob was still alive—and one of the things that the show stressed was how very quickly nature would reclaim a city once it was let go. So either the entire population had just left—and by just, I mean no more than five years ago, which seemed like a bit too much of a coincidence—or there was some kind of automated maintenance still going on, keeping things clean, organized, and repaired.
I must have muttered something to that effect, because Dae looked up and turned his head to glance at me. “That doesn’t mean they’re coming back. Or expecting to,” he said. “They may simply have not bothered to turn off the Roomba. Especially if they left in a hurry.”
“Or died out in a hurry.”
“No corpses. No crashed vehicles. A plague or runaway nanotech or even a Skynet situation would have left some sort of mark. This looks like packing everything away before leaving for the season.”
“Secret of the Martian Moons,” I replied.
Dae laughed out loud. “I remember reading that as a kid. Great book. But no. I don’t think the entire civilization just climbed into their collective space yachts and went for a jaunt. This feels more like the Roanoke colony.”
I opened my mouth to argue, then thought better of it. Instead, I sat back and said, “Tell you what. Let’s take a complete SUDDAR record of everything, then sim it in the holotank. Maybe we can figure something out from a more overall view.”
“Sounds good. And meanwhile, we can investigate the wormholes some more, which is what we really want to do, isn’t it?”
I laughed and directed the drone to return. Old married couple indeed.