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prologue.tiff

Numerous striations of red light crossed and mingled in the hiss of rising steam. The next instant, the silence of the clear freezing air resumed, and a fissure, as straight as an arrow, split the white, frozen surface. The enormous block of ice slid soundlessly downward.

Sitting comfortably within the twenty-four-degree Celsius temperature of the Operations Center, the operator gazed out at the brightly illuminated world of minus seventy degrees. Reclining at a forty-five-degree angle in a chair that completely enveloped his body, he sat relaxed with eyes closed, much of his consciousness encased in a bubble of light floating deep in a sea of darkness.

This was Mars, on average 130 million kilometers from Earth. Another sixty cubic meters had just been carved out of the colossal polar ice cap, 1,200 kilometers in diameter at the planet’s northernmost point. The layer of dry ice that once covered it had disappeared due to the greenhouse effect, and the exposed ice now quenched the thirst of ten thousand colonists from Earth.

The operator’s right hand twitched on the armrest. His eyes opened, and just as quickly closed, his body stirring restlessly. The fiber-optic cord that stretched from his head rustled slightly as it rubbed against the synthetic leather of the upholstered chair.

The laser-carved block of ice was now on a superconducting magnetic conveyor, being transported through a lighted tunnel. The operator stopped the conveyor without lifting a finger, directing the surveillance camera directly connected to his optic nerve to zoom in on the ice block.

Raising the upper half of his torso off the back of his chair, he squeezed his eyes shut as if staring at something behind his closed eyelids. His mouth slowly opened. He stayed in that position for a moment, gradually regaining his composure. He shifted his weight in his seat, agitated, his mind churning furiously.

Releasing his hold on the laser cutter and the superconducting magnetic conveyer, as well as the network segment linking him to the on-site surveillance camera, he fired an urgent message off through the LAN to his fellow operators, who were working on the other ice-mining lines. All twenty lines, spaced about a hundred meters apart from each other, halted as one.

“Hey, what’s up?”

“Are you all right?”

Messages flooded through. The fear of unexpected trouble was always there, but everyone looked forward to anything that would break the never-ending routine of the day.

“Just take a look at camera A26.”

Now that he had everyone’s attention and remembering that only five people could simultaneously access the camera at any given time, the operator gathered all the mobile cameras from the other sites, placing them around the ice.

“Now you can see it from cameras A20, 21, 25, 28, and 32.”

The network on the line under his control rapidly became congested. For an instant, he regretted what he had done. Maybe he should’ve just recorded the image and sent it out, but he didn’t want to risk the chance of being accused of a prank. And pranks were a real possibility in this unbearable boredom.

“What’s. . . this?”

“Gross.”

“Is this for real?”

“Can you move the camera a bit closer?”

“Hey, this one too!”

A jumble of surprised and angry-faced icons flitted across his mind’s eye, followed by a spate of uninvited comments. He patiently darted through the network adjusting the angles and positions of the cameras.

All of this commotion was simply a blinking electrical signal in the line management server of one machine; and since every machine at the ice mining base had stopped, the silence was deafening. Only the slight whisper of the ultrasonic motors escaped with each movement of the cameras.

Brilliantly lit up from all four directions, the perfectly rectangular block of ice glistened like a jewel. The laser-cut side was glassy smooth. Thanks to the extremely dry air, there was no frost to distort the object, clearly seen through the nearly two meters of ice.

That was only one-third of the ice block, though. In the remaining two-thirds, layer upon layer of strange objects gleamed black, encased in the ice.

They were of different sizes, but all similar in shape. Flat and oval, they were segmented into lobes like those of a trilobite, with two whip-like projections, and two protuberances ending in orbs. Overall, they were deep black with vivid red and green patterns scattered here and there. To all appearances they looked like gigantic shrimps or monstrous cockroaches. They had a vivid sheen, and looked as if they would start wriggling at any moment, their feelers quivering.

Several had been partially sliced along the face of the ice block to reveal a complex structure. Staring, the operators stopped talking and for a minute or two even the computers throughout the mining base fell silent.

Two weeks later, the objects had been christened the “Sagan Organisms” in honor of the famous scientist of the last century, and were transferred from the north polar cap to the geological laboratory at America’s largest colony, Mars NY.

Here they were taken apart: every node broken up, projections pulled out, and bulging eyes reminiscent of crabs or shrimps sliced in half.

One of the projections had been shaved precisely into one-micrometer thin slices using a rotating micro-slicer; and each circular cross section that successively appeared had been recorded using a hyperfine-resolution camera. The cross-sectional slices were then stacked in 3-D by computer, constructing a virtual feeler with all of its inner structural data. It was exactly the same method used in X-ray CTs and MRIs to construct 3-D imaging by layering cross-sectional images. Unlike these nondestructive methods, though, data volume and resolution were vastly greater since the cross sections were directly recorded.

Two technicians gazed tediously at the monitor while the feeler was sliced into thirty discs a second. One had long blonde hair tied back in a ponytail and a dark mustache. The other had frizzy hair and large timid eyes. Both wore white lab coats, the traditional uniform of the laboratory.

“It’s chikuwa from end to end, isn’t it, John?” said the technician with the mustache.

“Chikuwa?” responded the one with the frizzy hair.

“Yeah, you know, the Japanese food. Fish paste made in the shape of a tube like a rubber hose.”

“You mean like pasta?”

“Nah, much bigger and thicker. Just like this feeler,” said the technician with the mustache as he pointed to the image on the monitor.

“Ah, I get it. Chikuwa from end to end,” nodded the frizzy-haired technician.

“I guess there might be some changes in the microstructure with this thing, though.”

The two men quietly returned to gazing at the monitor, but the silence didn’t last long. The images weren’t really interesting; and neither had other more important work to do, nor were they motivated enough to take care of work they had to do later.

“You know, Billy. . . ,” said the frizzy-haired technician, as he hesitantly gave his mustachioed companion a sidelong glance.

“What?”

“I happened to hear this rumor.”

“Oh?”

“About this thing.”

“What, about the feeler?”

“No, I mean about the owner of the feeler, about this monster bug.”

“What about it?”

“About its origins.”

“Uh-huh,” nodded Billy, the mustachioed technician. “So, where did it come from?”

“You want to hear about it?”

Billy finally shifted his gaze from the monitor to the face of his coworker.

“Look, John. I’m not interested in knowing what you hacked into or what database you were scrounging around in before you stumbled onto this rumor. You don’t have to worry about me spilling the beans to somebody else. So stop being a pain in the ass and get to the point.”

John’s eyes widened in alarm.

“Aw, c’mon, man. You got me all wrong. . . .”

“Never mind. Just spit it out.”

“It seems to have come from the north.”

Billy was silent for a few moments and stared at the face of his coworker. When he realized that nothing more was forthcoming, he sighed and turned his gaze back to the monitor.

“You know, John, they say that Mars is a small planet, but ‘north’ is still pretty damn big. If you know that. . .”

“It’s the north polar cap—the extreme north.”

“Now we’re talkin’,” said Billy with some exasperation. “You mean the north polar cap.”

“Yeah.”

“Well, I figured that it was either the northern or southern polar region. Anybody would figure that out.”

“Then why is it officially off the record even for us?”

Billy inclined his head before replying.

“Because the north polar cap is a sensitive site.”

“Politically?”

“Politically.”

“So you think so too,” said John. “I guess that’s why the director was called out to Lowell.”

“Lowell? The director went to that godforsaken ruin?”

“Yeah. Remember, he was away on a three-day trip not too long ago? Supposedly to attend a meeting at Mars LA, but in reality, he went to Lowell Base,” John said as he jutted his chin toward the monitor, “to pick up this thing.”

“Now, why would it come here via Lowell from the north polar cap?” Billy asked as he leaned forward. “Did something happen there?”

John shrugged, and smiled knowingly.

“I really don’t know, myself, but according to the guy who went with the director. . .”

“You took a look at his private file, didn’t you?”

“No, I didn’t. I just. . .”

“Okay, okay,” said Billy raising a hand to stop the protesting. “You heard the story from him, right?”

“Yeah. According to him, when the director arrived at Lowell, he saw three of the top brass leave the base one at a time.”

Melodramatically pointing the index finger of his right hand slowly toward the ceiling, he then placed it on his chin,

“Don’t tell me,” he said, and put up his other hand to stop him.

John chuckled and nodded.

“Russia, China, and Japan.”

“Right you are. Everybody will understand the ramifications.”

Billy pointed to the monitor, “You mean, this thing is going to be off record for a long time?”

“Probably so. And EU, Canada, Australia, and India are going to be outside the loop again.”

“Which means that we’ve just taken on a new bomb.”

“That’s what it looks like.”

“You’re such an idiot. How did you get this information?”

“Just a minute,” John said raising his voice. He was staring at the monitor.

“What is it?” asked Billy as he looked back.

“I think the imaging has stopped.”

“What?” said Billy jutting his chin and looking at the monitor. “Now that you mention it. . .”

John stood up and went to take a look at the micro-slicer in the corner of the laboratory.

“Just as I thought, it stopped.”

“What!” cried out his partner and shouted toward the holographic display nearby, “Hey, Dave, it’s just like you heard it. What’s going on?”

A 3-D image of a man, almost a midget, appeared in the holographic display. Here in the lab, this software “agent” acted as a computer assistant responsible for controlling the various test equipment as ordered by the technicians.

“An unexpected error has occurred. There is the possibility of infection or security penetration,” reported the agent matter-of-factly.

“This is not good,” groaned Billy. “Activate the immune system immediately.”

“It already has been activated, but it’s ineffective.”

“What are you saying?”

“The data related to Specimen A placed in temporary storage is being read without authorization. Simultaneously, a large volume of data that cannot be analyzed is being written into memory. Abnormality has also been detected in the long-term memory. . . .”

Before it could finish the sentence, the agent began to distort strangely, then froze.

“Man, this is really bad. Even Dave’s frozen.”

John’s face grew pale.

“What do we do? Security’s gotta be notified!”

“Before we do that, we have to isolate this system from the network! We can’t let it get into the other critical systems!”

“But, Dave’s. . .”

“Do it manually.”

“Me?”

“John, you’re the number one cyber expert in this lab. So, please, c’mon.”

“But, this is the first time we’ve ever been attacked.”

John gazed, spooked, at Dave’s frozen and distorted image.

“Don’t freak out on me. Whether it’s a virus or a cracker, it’s just in Virdig, the virtual world of electrons. No matter what happens, you’re not going to get physically hurt or injured, remember? And if it’s another hacker, you’re way superior. So get a move on!”

“Geez, you exaggerate!” grumbled the frizzy-haired technician, donning a hairband-like headset. “How come it’s always me that has to do the dirty work?”

“Ah, quit bitchin’.”

“And what about you, Billy? You’re just gonna stand there and watch?”

“Well, if worse comes to worst and you fail, I’m going to start randomly ripping out cables. So keep talking and let me know what’s going on!”

Clicking his tongue in frustration, John closed his eyes and suddenly became quiet. Ten seconds of silence followed.

“Are you connected?” asked Billy by his partner’s ear.

“Yeah, I managed to. . . ,” he responded, eyes still closed. “I’m just looking at the file server now to see how it’s doing.”

“And how is it?”

“It’s in a bad mood.”

“Do you see the sneak thief?”

“Sneak thief? You gotta be kidding. More like smart-ass looter, if you ask me,” John said as he curled his lips. “Man! This is bad. The data that took us three days to collect has been totally wiped! It’s worse than being robbed. Where the hell was Dave?”

“Never mind that now. Just hurry up and disconnect the system.”

“I know. That’s what I’m doing right now. Just a minute here. I’ve been leaving everything up to the agent these days and I’m a bit rusty.”

Billy once again interrupted impatiently. “C’mon, dude. What’s happenin’?”

“There’s something weird going on here.”

“Weird?”

“Virdig is warped.”

Billy was silent.

A faint chill passed between them.

“There’s a strange noise. Ugh!”

Suddenly his whole body went stiff.

“Hey! Hey!” cried Billy as he grabbed his companion’s arm; the muscles had gone tight and rigid.

“Stop it! Stop horsin’ around!”

Suddenly, his coworker screamed like a stricken beast. Billy involuntarily dropped his arm, gooseflesh popping up on his neck.

“John! What’s the matter?!”

John rolled his eyes back, and his body began to writhe in spasms.

“John! John!”

Billy grabbed hold of his partner’s shoulders and shook him, then remembered to remove the headset. As he did so, an almost inaudible hiss escaped his coworker’s throat. A bit of frothy saliva dribbled from the corner of his mouth and down his chin.

“John!”

The frozen image of the agent on the holographic display crumbled and disappeared. For a split second, the shadow of something unfamiliar flitted across that blank holographic space. Billy, tearfully oblivious, simply kept calling out his partner’s name.