Ben Bova: Leviathans of Jupiter

It seems peaceful enough, Leviathan signed. Even helpful, when it protected us against the darters.

But that is not part of the Symmetry! another of the Elders flashed in urgent blue. We have always faced the darters alone. The alien disrupts the Symmetry.

The alien enlarges the Symmetry, Leviathan countered. The alien shows us that our understanding of the Symmetry has been limited.

All of the Elders went dark, pondering this new thought. Leviathan waited, hoping that the alien would light up again and prove that it was intelligent—and beneficial.

At last the Eldest decided. It signed to Leviathan, You will take the alien to the edge of the Kin and remain there with it. Whatever it tells you, you will report through the Kin to us. Try to learn from it, but do not allow it to interfere with the Kin in any way.

Leviathan realized that the Eldest was choosing the wisest path, and flashed its agreement in muted tones of orange and yellow.

Then Leviathan wondered, How do I tell the alien what it must do?

Deirdre awoke from her sleep period feeling far from rested. Her entire body felt sluggish, weary. The pain in her chest seemed worse than before, she thought, a hot throbbing that sent waves of agony through her whole body. It’s the pressure, she knew. We’re down deeper than we ever planned to be.

She saw that Max was still asleep, tucked into his cramped shelf like a corpse on a slab. His breathing was a labored gurgle, as if he were half strangling. Should I tell Dorn? Deirdre wondered. Max’s physical condition is displayed on the life-support readouts, she told herself. If he’s in any trouble Dorn would know it right away.

She felt too tired to change into a fresh maillot. We’ll be leaving soon anyway, she thought. She hoped.

The alarm buzzer that signaled the end of their sleep period stirred Max. He banged his head as he forgot where he was and tried to sit up. Muttering curses, he slid out of the bunk, rubbing his forehead.

“Whoever designed this bucket ought to have his head examined,” Yeager said, grinning sheepishly.

“Yes, Max,” said Deirdre. “And you should allow more room for crew comforts on the next model.”

“I’ll make a note of that.”

Deirdre slid back the door to the bridge and gasped. Dorn was floating a meter or so above the deck, Andy fluttering helplessly over him.

“He just passed out,” Corvus said, his voice shaking. “Half a minute ago he was fine, then he just slumped over, unconscious.”

Yeager pushed past Deirdre and rushed to the cyborg’s inert body. Deirdre went to her console, but glanced at the life-support readouts on Dorn’s screens. A row of glaring red lights. Flicking to the readouts for the rest of them, Deirdre saw that several of the curves had crossed their redline limits. We’re dying! she realized. The pressure is killing us.

Yeager glanced at the displays, too. “He’s in trouble.”

Corvus said, “I can see that!”

“We’ve got to figure out what’s wrong with him, and fast.”

Stating the obvious, Corvus said, “We’re just down too damned deep.”

“Helluva time for you to admit that,” Yeager growled.

Deirdre saw in her central screen, “The leviathan is lighting up again.”

She was certain it was the one they had met and attached themselves to. It was hard to tell any differences among the mountain-sized creatures, but Deirdre thought the one they had attached to was slightly smaller and sleeker than the others that had gathered around their vessel.

It was lighting up, flashing a set of images against a background of red and yellow. What does it mean? she wondered. What is it trying to tell us?

Patiently, Leviathan showed the alien that it was going to take its usual place at the outer rim of the Kin, and the alien must come along with it.

The alien remained dark, mute.

How can I make it understand? Leviathan wondered.

“He’s got a pulse,” Corvus said, gripping the unconscious cyborg’s human wrist.

Yeager squinted at the medical readouts. “Pulse steady but weak. Breathing rate going down. What the hell’s wrong with him?”

Deirdre was feeding the leviathan’s signals through the computer program that slowed them, trying to ignore the pain that was radiating through her body. Maybe I can figure out what it’s trying to tell us if I can look at the images at a slower rate. But she couldn’t help turning away from her screens to glance at Dorn’s unconscious body.

The Eldest flashed to Leviathan, The alien does not respond.

It’s gone dark, Leviathan agreed.

It doesn’t understand what you are trying to tell it, signaled one of the Elders.

Or it doesn’t want to understand, signed another.

No, it’s too stupid to understand. It’s not truly intelligent, it merely mimics what we tell it.

Leviathan thought otherwise, but kept its opinion to itself. Remembering its encounter with the other alien, long ago, Leviathan decided that there was one way to get the alien to move, whether it acknowledged its message or not.

“We have to get back up to the station,” Corvus said. “Get medical attention for Dorn.”

For all of us, Deirdre added silently.

Still scanning the medical readouts, Yeager muttered, “Or at least up to a higher level, where the pressure isn’t so bad.”

“Back to the station!” Corvus snapped.

Deirdre saw that Dorn was floating gently in the perfluorocarbon, unconscious, his arms bobbing in the liquid. His breathing seemed deep and slow; his human eye was closed, the prosthetic camera dark instead of its usual red gleam.

“His artificial eye,” she blurted. “It’s off.”

“So what?” Yeager said.

“It never goes off,” she said. “Not even when he sleeps.”

Corvus grasped her meaning. “Maybe it’s the mechanical side of him that’s failed?”

Yeager looked from Corvus to Deirdre and then down at the unconscious Dorn. “Sounds nutty.”

“The medical readouts don’t cover his robotic systems,” Deirdre said. Then she added, “Do they?”

“No, you’re right,” said Yeager. “I’ll pull up the diagnostic program for his prosthetics. Andy, we’ll have to plug him into the main computer. Find the connector cable.”

But as Corvus launched himself toward the hatch of their sleeping area the vessel suddenly lurched and tilted wildly.

“What the hell?” Yeager shouted as he slammed painfully against the main console. Dorn’s inert body glided across the bridge’s narrow confines and buckled against the food dispenser. Deirdre’s feet were wedged into the deck loops but still she swayed so hard that she banged her shoulder against her console. Corvus missed the hatch and rammed into the bulkhead alongside it.

“What’s happening?” Deirdre whimpered.

As gently as it could Leviathan slid beneath the alien and pushed against it with its back. Once before it had lifted an alien up to safety as it sank down into the hot abyss below. That had been easier, because that alien’s body was flat. Circular, hard-shelled, but flat. It could ride easily enough on Leviathan’s back.

But this alien was round, spherical. It bounced off Leviathan’s back instead of riding smoothly.

Doggedly, Leviathan nudged the alien outward toward the edge of the Kin’s formation, in obedience to the Elders’ decision. The alien bounced along as Leviathan’s flagella members patiently propelled it onward.

Leviathan remembered that the earlier alien had repaid its piggyback rescue by spraying scalding heat against its hide. Then it had shot upward, into the cold abyss above, never to return.