John Sandford - Saturn Run

Crow nodded. “Exactly. They’re not just a century ahead of us, they’re thousands of years ahead. We don’t really know how many. So why not give us tech that might make us more valuable to them? Or, maybe, just to make us like them a bit better? Trinkets for the natives.”

Clover looked thoughtful. “Yeaahh,” he drew out. “Maybe they’ve been doing this long enough that they’re a real good judge of who’ll make a good future trade partner. Or maybe it’s just a shotgun approach: they try this on every potential partner. If it works out, great for both parties. If the indigenes screw themselves over, no skin off the aliens’ butts. Assuming they have butts. If we get too big for our britches and turn hostile, they’d wipe us out and go on to the next species. There’s lots of fish swimmin’ in the Milky Way. Hell, maybe it’s never worked, but they figure it doesn’t hurt to try again.”

“So that’s the big picture? We get this stuff because they think it will make us more valuable, but if we don’t play like good little boys and girls, we’re history?” Fang-Castro asked.

Clover said, “It’s probably not that simple. We might even be completely misjudging the situation. But it might be prudent to assume the worst in this case and behave accordingly…. I’m particularly concerned that we can’t get any information on the aliens, of whom there seem to be several varieties. I’d like you all to think on questions that might circumvent that prohibition and ones that would illuminate why it exists in the first place.”

Crow nodded in agreement. “Security always has a reason. We need to understand theirs.”

Fang-Castro said, “Another conversation with Wurly—God, I can’t believe you did that, Cassie, but I think we’re stuck with it now—anyway, another conversation with Wurly is our top priority, along with that high-bandwidth link the answer-bot offered us. First priority on next contact is engineering and communication. We’ll have a new team leader in Lieutenant Emwiller, in keeping with the idea of some basic military-style discipline while on the primary.”

Sandy held up a hand, and Fang-Castro nodded at him. “If I’m not out of place, I think it might not be a bad idea to take a guitar and an amp with us. And maybe, if they want to go, Joe Martinez and Crow. We could talk to this trade-bot they’ve got, give them a musical demo, see if they want to trade, and for what. My concern is, we’re doing fine right now—but what if they cut us off for some reason? What if we… or the Chinese… do something to piss them off? I think packing away as much stuff as possible, as quickly as possible, might be a good idea.”

Fang-Castro said, “Yes. That’s good. Get the equipment ready. Whether or not Mr. Crow would be a valuable musical addition to your team, I would like to have a security expert take a look at the inside of that place. If Mr. Crow agrees…?”

“Absolutely,” Crow said.

Martinez said, “You know I’m hot to go, under any conditions.”

“We should start getting responses to first contact from the earth-based people in four hours or so. Let’s plan to launch again in twelve hours, to meet here in eight to discuss Earth-expert concerns and suggestions. Between now and then, I want seven hours of sleep for all team members, with meds as necessary,” Fang-Castro said. She thought for a moment. “Okay. That’s it. Everybody: brainstorm ahead of time and see if you can figure out some questions that might get us more information on the prohibited topics.”

Second contact.

On the first trip out, Sandy had kept all of his cameras fixed on the primary at different focal lengths. On the second trip, he put one camera in tourist mode, recording sweeping views of Saturn along with the rings seen nearly edge-on, a thin white line bisecting the sky, most with the alien artifact somewhere in the picture. And he spent time recording in detail both the bees and the antimatter storage units.

On the second trip in, with Martinez at the wheel, they moved more quickly, and stayed longer. They were all more relaxed than they’d been yesterday, but this time, they all kept their helmets on.

Emwiller to Wurly: “We’ve brought along a communications technician to determine what data interface would be mutually compatible. How should we proceed?”

The jukebox glowed a pure yellow, then flickered through the spectrum. To its right, a section of what they had thought was a seamless wall slid aside. “Down that corridor, I have another avatar by the entrance to the storerooms. Your technician may converse with me there.”

The tech, Hal Emery, walked over and looked down the hall.

Crow muttered: “He’s going alone?”

Emwiller called, “Hey, Hal, you want company?”

He waved her off. “S’okay. Hall’s only five meters long and it’s mostly empty.”

Clover said to Wurly, “If we understand correctly, once our technician has set up the data link, you’ll be transmitting to us all the information on your antimatter technology?”

“That is not correct.”

Clover: “You said yesterday that you needed the high-speed data link to convey the information.”

“That is accurate, but the link itself will not be sufficient. My analysis suggests that your equipment does not have sufficient transmission bandwidth to accept all the relevant data in what would be a reasonable time here, given your life-support systems. I will provide all the requested data in a quantum storage unit. I will also provide a reader for the quantum storage unit, also called in English a QSU. The first portions of the I/O transfer will include specifications for construction of the reader, should you need backup readers. The quantum storage unit reader is capable of feeding seven hundred and forty of your high-bandwidth channels simultaneously, if equipped with appropriate outputs. The data reader, however, is itself a very sophisticated device. Its interfaces are not currently compatible with your computer technology. You will have to adapt.”

“Will the information be in English?”

“Partly in English, but largely in mathematics. Some new words will be introduced and defined.”

Emwiller: “Can you give us backup QSUs and readers, in case we run into technical problems?”

“Yes, I can provide eight quantum storage units and eight readers.”

Emwiller wasn’t ready to let go. “Our I/O links are pretty fast. Can you transmit the basics of the theory and technology to us on how to build the reader?”

“Yes, I can do that. With the bandwidth I expect you to provide, it will take approximately three weeks to provide all the information on the reader, itself. It is not a simple device, and a wide variety of other technologies must be explained in detail before you can build it. Many of the design specifications are on the atomic level. Some even require customized nucleon lattices. There are components whose functional configuration demands the precise placement of considerable quantities of individual atoms. It is a large amount of data.”

Hannegan said, “We shouldn’t have expected it to be easy, but precisely placing umpteen trillion atoms? Yeah, that’ll take us a while to figure out.”

He thought for a minute. “Let me ask you this: Do you have compilations of physics, chemistry, and biological processes that could be transmitted separately and more quickly over our limited bandwidth?”

“Yes. If you wish to prioritize those among the goods you trade for. Other species have done so. When shorn of false trails, error, discussion, and philosophy, much of this galactic arm’s research into those areas can be delivered in approximately six days, four hours, three minutes, and 7.4 seconds, if your technician’s description of your I/O processes and bandwidth is correct. If you choose this trade, the trade system can establish a parallel I/O link.”