Watching over proceedings on the Albatross's small bridge from behind Alwin and Einar, Astrid can tell this is the crew's first run on a salvage mission... as a crew.

"There's no one calling the shots here," she says. "Be careful."

The system has several planets, and even from well away from the destination they can pick out the one planet of interest that matches the one seen in the data the ICS provided.

A small, cold, icy world.  It's had a basic survey, but being uninhabitable and quickly written off as economically unimportant, no one has ever bothered coming here, or even naming the place.  The atmosphere is cold, dense, and short of oxygen.  Small, shallow seas cover most of it- a water ammonia solution.   More or less, window cleaner.  Much of it is so cold that it forms slushy masses.

  Magda Simikos, the lead ICS researcher here, has an opinion about this.

"The choice this Carinan made, to land here, reinforces the idea that it was seeking survival, and therefore is not merely a machine.

"How does crashing help survival?" Astrid asks.  "Obviously it could do course corrections, couldn't it have just steered away, and floated in space until help came?"

"Carinans, like a lot of powerful electronic systems, have heat problems. We need our atmosphere to breath, Carinan ships are flooded with cold nitrogen gas to keep the electronics cool.  If this ship had a problem with that system, and vented its coolant into space, maybe it needed cold air to live."

"Sensors, catalog everything and plot its course and feed the info to Astrogation. We'll catalog all of the space junk so we don't become a victim here as well."

"Plot your course from Heather's feed Alwin, but don't execute until the captain orders it. The smallest particle could poke a hole through us."

"On it," Alwin says, already making the necessary preparations for this particular set of maneuvers.

Heather sat at her console and watched their course and speed very closely. She didn't speak, barely moved, barely seemed to breathe until she needed to. Her single-mindedness in situations fraught with risk had saved her life when negotiations broke down more than once.

"Light to port 5 degrees," she said, sending the change to the captain and Alwin. "Steady on that course."

"Make it so Alwin, steady."

"Run a sensor scan of the planet Horace, see if we can find our target, after we get through this field that is." he says with a smile. "Then we put down when we find the wreckage."

"Aye-aye sir" Horace replies.

Non spacers hear "debris field" and imagine great chunks of wounded starships, drifting and tumbling slowly through space.

That's not the reality.  Oh, sure, there might be one or two of those, but those aren't the danger.  The danger comes from the small fragments moving at truly sick relative speeds.  A chip of armor blasted off in battle becomes a bullet.

This isn't the worst such area, not by far, it was only a small skirmish.  But there are some dangers.

Alwin will have to make a Piloting skill roll here to make a completely intact approach.  Because of the relatively low threat of the debris field, he only needs a 6+  (2d6 + skill/modifiers is the basic traveller/Cepheus engine system)

Even as they approach, they can pick up a signal- something is down there on the planet, pretty much where it is supposed to be, transmitting a simple, repeated code.

"It's alive"  Astrid says in mock-creepy voice.

"Hehehehehehehhehehe, yup, it is! There it is captain, I found it!" Horace says with a grin!
This message was last edited by the player at 16:58, Wed 15 July 2020.

In reply to Horace Wymp (msg # 10):

"Smart ass!" he grins back. "There is your target Alwin, get us there in one piece and set us down."

It isn't pretty - there are a couple of close calls along the way - but Alwin's skill and experience in the pilot's seat gets the ship to their destination unscathed.

14:08, Today: Alwin Brandle rolled 7 using 2d6+2.  Piloting roll.
This message was last edited by the player at 18:14, Wed 15 July 2020.

Everybody get your suits on, it isn't nice out there.

He puts on his vacc/hazard suit for the evil atmosphere outside the ship. Ammonia and other things he thought he'd heard. He wasn't sure, he was the novice here, he would take orders from the experienced salvagers.

The Albatross lands.

For centuries, word smiths have wrestled with the oddness of saying "water landing" when no land at all is involved.  Unfortunately, no good alternative word ever made it into regular use.  In this case, it's barely even water that the ship is landing on, it's a cold aqueous solution of water and ammonia, mostly.  This is a good thing in this case- water-ammonia blends freeze at much lower temperatures than water.  If it had been pure water, there would be nothing out there but a sea of ice, and nowhere for the ship to set down.  The Albatross, like all of its sister ships, lacks any "hard surface" landing capability, that feature being passed up in favor of economy.

It's so cold that despite being in solution, some water manages to freeze.  But when the water freezes, the ratio of ammonia to liquid water increases in the remainder, and as that ratio rises, so does the freezing point of the solution.  It creates an equilibrium- for any given temperature, some of the water in the liquid is frozen.  The result is a surface that is not entirely liquid, but is certainly not solid.  Soft slush would be the best description.  The landing of the ship has left a trail two miles long, clearly visible- it will will take a while for it to fill back in again, but it will.

The other very important thing about landing the Albatross is that the water must be deep enough, or else, horrible things happen.  This is usually determined with a laser sensor- standard equipment on all ships of this type.  The laser won't travel far through water but it doesn't have to.  If there's no return from the beam at all, then obviously the water is more than deep enough.

Here, much of the slush is shallow, but there are deeper areas the ship can land in.

The target is close, only about a mile and a half away over this slushy sea, in a much shallower area: according to readings taken before the landing, less than a foot deep there!

"Can we get closer Alwin? Or don't you recommend it due to the depth? Maybe we can get to the edge of the shallow area."

Alwin considers the pros and cons of a closer approach, only to realize that this particular environment is different enough from what he has done in the past that he can't say with any certainty as to what the correct answer is in this particular instance.


14:55, Today: Alwin Brandle rolled 6 using 2d6+3 ((2,1)).  Pilot skill plus INT modifier.

He does the best he can with a second pass.  The environment is strange, and the danger of landing in an area that is too shallow is... well the one good thing is that being stranded here might not be for long if others come looking.  Assuming the ship lands relatively intact.

The ship sets down, leaving a slush trail behind it.  Now you have a little less than a mile between you and the target site, much of which is very shallow, a thin layer of loose slush over surface.

"We need a boat, or a hovercraft, or something like that," Astrid says.  She looks at the chief scientist.  "You knew we were landing on a planet like this.  I'm sure you looked up the particulars before we left on this trip, right?"

Magda Simikos nods.  "We brought an inflatable air boat, and a submersible drone.  It is too shallow for the drone.  We will have to go investigate with the boat, in person."

"What the hell is an air boat?" Astrid asks.  "It flies?"

Magda shakes her head.  "A boat for crossing shallow water or marsh.  Lightweight, powered by air. A blower in the back acts like a jet. The air here will work just as well as breathable air."

"Thank the gods we brought a boat! We're good then!" Horace says under his breath. "We'll need a toolkit too and a few other items, we go armed too, just in case."
This message was last edited by the player at 12:49, Sat 25 July 2020.

"Where do you want me, boss? I'm happy to go but this is out of my wheelhouse and there's no linguistic similarities in their machine code for me to seize on. I'll go wherever you need me to," Heather called out.

"Get a sidearm from the ship's locker to start, then follow the lead of the salvagers, I'm new to this too. Astrid or Boris will know, Dan is too new for that." he says with a smile.
This message was last edited by the player at 15:46, Mon 27 July 2020.

Horace heads for the boat, Einar stays on the bridge watching the sensors.

Gun on his hip, just in case, and toolkit in hand, he lends a hand getting the boat to the water and gets in out of the way, not wanting to be in the road for the upcoming operation.

The air boat is big enough for six people, so it's Horace and Heather, the two younger salvagers, and Magda Simikos with one of her junior assistants.

The planet surface has the consistency of a partially melted snow cone.  Though, presumably, the taste of kitchen floor cleaner.  At the very least, the lower hull of the Albatross will be very clean.

Alwin set the ship down very close.  It only takes a minute for the goal to come into sight.  The first thing they see is the trail.

Had the alien ship only plowed up the slush, it would have long settled back by now.  But the slush covering here is so shallow that the landing carved a furrow through the loose, wet ground beneath it.  This now exists in the form of two parallel raised ridges, each about a meter above the surrounding surface.  Between the two ridges, the furrow is deeper canal.  It will probably be a feature here for many years, as the planet isn't a very active one.

Almost immediately, you see a large twisted piece of metal off to the side, well away from the track.  It looks half melted and twisted.  Maybe it was an antenna or other component that tore away during the landing.  Another piece of metal is in front of you, it looks like a lost section of hull plate.  A few moments later you can see the ship in the distance ahead.   Maybe it's not the whole thing, because it certainly looks smaller than a "Junkyard B" class Carinan ship did on the computer screen.  But the width is about right- it's about 40 meters wide.  It looks battered and partially melted, and there are scorch marks on the hull.

Back on the Albatross, they are monitoring the alien ship:  it is still transmitting its signal.

Horace checks his sidearm, "What do you think Boris, your opinion? Everyone check your weapons just in case, they don't like being captured."

Heather checks her weapon as well. "That's not what worries me. I'm worried about others coming to investigate that transmission. If they find us here they'll kill us and destroy the Albatross without a second thought."

"They would, and say we never arrived because we'd be gone." Horace says to Heather in deep silent contemplation.

Back on the Albatross, Alwin and one of Magda Simikos's assistants watch the flareup in electronic activity on the alien ship, recorded by sensors on board the Albatross.

There is a moment of fear: is it about to attack?

But the assistant, a computer learning expert named Hannah Tekehu, is certain it is not a threat.

"It's internal only.  It's processing data.  Nothing anything like Carinan fire control signals."

Since the later 20th century scientists and engineers have known that any computer operations, whether designed to be externally transmitted or not, can be detected through changes in the electromagnetic fields.  Military and government systems have all been shielded since then, so these inadvertent signals cannot be detected.*

At some point in their long history, Carinans learned the same thing, and took the same precautions.  This is why Hannah knows that normally, no one detects internal Carinan electronic signals.  No one, ever.

She starts pushing buttons on the Albatross.  "We have to record every bit of this, this is a breakthrough!"

And then adds, to reassure the "away team":  "It's definitely not weapons control."

The damaged hulk of Carinan spacecraft is nearer.  For a ship that is not supposed to make landings it looks rather good.  But that's because generally, ships that are not supposed to make landings look like craters after they try.  This landing was exceptionally skillful.

Although... the ship landed cargo hold side up.  According to the schematics they saw back on the Albatross, the Carinan ship has a cargo hold, because it is used to something very similar to what the salvagers do to Carinans: return components for study.  The cargo hold doors are shut, and secure.  Carinan ships are built tough; even though this one is not meant to land, it is meant to travel thousands of light years in space, and endure space battles with powerful weapons.  It is not weak.

Even so, crash landing is rough.  The cargo handling arms that would have served the cargo hold are burned away.  And on the underside of the ship, the bulk of the vessel's firepower has probably been scraped down to dust.

"You know this thing doesn't have a crew, right?" Astrid says.  "It's not going to have air locks or entry ports.  We might have to cut or blow something to open it up.  Everyone okay with that?"


*This is true.  In the West this is called Tempest Shielding.  Spooky spy stuff.

"Roger that" Horace says to Astrid! Getting in and out was going to be the problem

In reply to Horace Wymp (msg # 27):

"You got the cutting torch to get in Boris? What are we after? Artifacts and records? No room for the whole ship. Carinians?"

Einar tried to figure a way to get a little closer to the salvage site if he could. He monitored the sensors with the others but kept his eye out.

"We'll leave the cargo door open for easy ingress and egress, but lets keep an eye out for trouble that way and keep a guard on duty there."

When they got to the ship, Horace helped Boris to get the torch ready to cut a hole in the side so they would have access to the inside.

"Everyone keep your eyes open for trouble including the remote possibility of sinking. It looks reasonably solid. Firearms ready for survivors, we'll take prisoners if we can but we probably can't. They are machines."

"Keep an eye out for computers, comm ports and connections for remote devices. Bodies, computers, cargo, everything we can carry is a legitimate target for us."
This message was last edited by the player at 16:27, Thu 13 Aug 2020.

"Given the fact they like to commit genocide on all biological life they encounter something tells me that prisoners aren't a likely outcome of any interactions. This whole thing is strange though so who knows," Heather said as they came to a stop at the ship.
This message was last edited by the player at 20:15, Thu 13 Aug 2020.

In reply to Heather MacKenzie (msg # 31):

"Hehe, yup, they'll try to take us with them. Keep behind me if you can."
This message was last edited by the player at 11:29, Fri 14 Aug 2020.

"We thought we might have big pieces to haul on board," Boris says.  "We have winch, and cable.  I wonder if we have enough cable... but the whole thing is too big to fit.  At least easy to drag on slush."

He surveys the hull, as do the others.

"It's made for survival and fighting in space," Astrid says.  "Tough stuff.  We could spend a day cutting a hole in it with a portable torch.  If we had a combat laser on the ship..."

She looks back towards the Albatross.  Then shakes her head.  "Of course that could just blow it up, we don't know what condition its in.  It's still transmitting..."

Another long, appraising look at the alien ship.

"Guns and antennas down there, crushed... cargo bay side up... but it was a controlled descent.  Was that a choice?  Why would it do that?"

“There May have been some kind of self-preservation at work here but, even with that, I doubt they would want other races to get a hand on their weapons or communication-both of which could be used against them.” Heather replied. “It makes the most sense to me.”

In reply to Heather MacKenzie (msg # 34):

"You're probably right, They may be robots, but they try to preserve themselves in a unique way."

"Getting into their comms would be a godsend I think, if they were humanoid they would be anyway."

“We don’t even know what type of computer systems they use. Quantum computing? Whatever programming language they use is likely to be very alien to us. If we can get into their systems and get an idea of their language that would be a massive step toward for us.”

"The portable torch work for getting through the hull Boris, or do we need something connected to the Albatross?"

"Well, if we recover their computers Heather, It WILL be a giant step forward. You could be famous!" he said with a grin!

I smile at the idea. “If we get an intact computer and I can find something to establish a linguistic basis which I can expand upon we may well crack their comms.”

"I don't know if it will cut," Boris says.  "Most of the time these things are already pretty badly damaged."

"It's damaged on the side that hit the ground," Astrid points out.

"I can't crawl under it," Boris says.

"No, but the damage must extend up from that.  Fractures, stress lines..."

Boris nods.  Then says,  "Or we try for the cargo hatch on top.  It's made for opening, there must be a lock of some kind.  We can probably cut the locks faster than making a door through undamaged hull."

He looks around.

"So, from top or bottom?  Does it make a difference?"

"You're the salvage experts! Cargo hatch makes sense, let's do it your way."

Horace, when they get to the tail of the spaceship, jumps over from the boat onto the hull of the craft. He leans back to accept the torch which Boris had so that he could come over, all the while looking for a place or protrusion of metal to tie the airboat up to it.

He then helps anyone else come over that wants to come over. He double checks his hazard suit.

And up goes Boris, becoming the first human to crawl up the side of one of these things landed on a planet.  He passes a scorch mark, with metal melted to the point where it began to foam.

"Laser hit from our frigate, I think!" he announces.  "But at a shallow angle, this one didn't go through the armor.. there's back there..."

He reaches the upper portion.  People instinctively think of the cargo area as "below" and that's still the norm for human ships that offload on a planet's surface, like the Albatross.  But this was built for space.  Top and bottom are really just conveniences.

"No laser damage here," he says.  "They missed the cargo area."

It takes only a few moments to identify the hinges and locks.  In some ways, the technology of different civilizations converged:  the cheapest, strongest, best way to make an airtight hatch was always something hinged.  Sliders were just too complex and fragile, with parts sliding against other parts.  In this, Humans and Carinians agreed.

"It looks like it's made to open in segments.  So we're going to try to get just, now, and see what we've got in their."

They begin cutting their way through the hinge, working carefully as random sparks could penetrate an environmental suit. Boris notes that "spacer workers"- people who work regularly in the vacuum as opposed to those who might have to do it only occasionally-  generally use tough, armored suits. Heavier, but around tools and torches, valuable. When the hinge is burned through, they attack the bolts, one by one.  Finally...

"Okay, now we pull door off," Boris says.  "Then one of us gets to be historic, going inside first."

Horace helps remove the door section to gain ingress into the cargo hold. "You want to go first Boris, or not, I'll go if you don't want to."

"Pass the light over Heather." he says and pulls out his weapon.
This message was last edited by the player at 18:23, Fri 21 Aug 2020.

In reply to Horace Wymp (msg # 44):

Horace climbs down into the cargo hold, holding the light in one hand for illumination, gun in the other. (After he was in obviously).

He looked around in a 360^o arc for any threats and anything salvageable. He waited for the others to join him inside.

"And here I was hoping to make history," Heather said in a woeful tone as she passed Horace the torch.

"I should remind you all, it's still active and signalling," the ICS scientist says- though she is looking on with eager anticipation.  Not that anyone can tell through a helmet.

The first thing everyone at the hatch (Boris, Heather, and Horace) realize is that it's warmer in there.

Not "We can toast marshmallows!" warm, but at least 30 degrees above the frigid air outside, enough so that they feel it through their suits- it takes a few moments for the heaters in the suits to sense and adjust, and so there are a few moments of warmth.

The interior of the Carelian ship's cargo hold is about a quarter the size of the Albatross's hold.  It's mostly empty.

Where it is not empty it is occupied by a thing about twice the size of a refrigerator, and overall, roughly cylindrical but very irregular.  It looks like it's made of thousands if not millions of small, spherical beads of many colors.

It's much more interesting when Horace's light is not shining on it, when it is in shadow.

"Yoperesteh!" Boris whispers in his native language.

In the darkness, there are pale flickers of light within the thing.

It is completely unlike anything any of the characters have heard of in any human or known alien technology.

"Română? Vorbesc limba ta maternă dacă da," Heather said softly to Boris as they looked at the...whatever it was. "Maybe that's the ship's CPU or...crew member?"

In reply to Heather MacKenzie (msg # 48):

"Russian? What is it?" Horace moves closer to it to check it out. He doesn't touch it though.

Alwin, from his pilot's chair, listens to everything going on over the comms, fascinated.

 Hannah Tekehu, the Computer Learning specialist, is also back on the ship.  She hangs out with Alwin, watching... and keeping track of the ship's security cameras, because she knows that when everyone's out exploring and the pilot is sitting in the pilot's seat waiting, that's when the monster sneaks on board.

She's seen the old movies.  Someone has to make sure nothing sneaks up on Alwin.

 Hannah lets her thinking slip out loud.

"Of course if there was native life and it did somehow get onto the ship, the temperature on board would probably make it melt instantly."

Meanwhile,  at the crash site, the study the bizarre sparkling marble mass that sits in the mostly empty cargo hold of the Carinan ship.

"I have no idea what this," Boris admits.  "That was just... expression.  It doesn't translate well.  If this is Carinan, why is it in cargo hold?  Why is it not like any piece of their tech we ever recovered before?  This is... you know, this is a kind of first contact.  Carinan or no, this is alien thing no one has ever seen before."

Of course, all this time, it's been sending a radio signal.  That much they know, and the Albatross has been monitoring all this time.

And back on the Albatross, they see the signal changing, becoming more complex.
This message was last edited by the GM at 01:59, Mon 07 Sept 2020.

"Romanian," Heather replied absently as she examined the device. The signal's Increasing complexity was fascinating.

"Please tell me you'r recording this, Albatross. I'm recording on my pad but two copies would help as I begin working on this language if, and big if, it's a language at all."

Horace approaches the thing to get a closer look!

In reply to Horace Wymp (msg # 53):

Einar, with his shotgun, was looking out the back, protecting HIS ship, something coming up on the ramp!

He raised his shotgun and pumped it loaded and watched it for a few seconds!

"Unless said life form had a physiology sufficiently adaptive to extreme temperature ranges," Alwin notes out loud, in a neutral tone.  "Then it would merely require an adequate time period to acclimate properly to its new surroundings."   It is unclear if Alwin is engaging the premise seriously, speaking only in the hypothetical, or merely making polite conversation.


"Yes, dual recording is in effect, as per standard protocol,"  Alwin responds.  Granted, the 'protocol' from his mercantile days was generally in dealing with other humans, a useful precaution if someone later tried to claim that a verbal statement had or had not been made.  Still, he muses silently, if we all die horribly here then at least our deaths will be properly recorded, even if no one else ever sees it.
This message was last edited by the GM at 02:00, Mon 07 Sept 2020.

On the Albatross, Alwin and the computer learning specialist,  Hannah Teleku are on the bridge, having the computer record everything.  In separate files, in separate physical memories, so that no one incident could destroy both recordings.

It's all going well, until...

Every spacer knows there are a few words you normally don't want to here on the bridge.

"That's weird", Hannah says.

After a silent moment she says:  "Did you know the ship's computer has a children's game section? Is somebody playing Fanny Flamingo Fun Farm?"


******

"I think we can get straps around this and pull it out," Boris says.  "Then we slide it back over the slush.  This.. this is priceless.  We all retire and do interviews now, when we get home.  Working days are over!  This isn't even Carinan, I think.  We're going to be famous!"

Astrid agrees that the thing in the hold is not Carinan.  "We've been fighting them for all these years, that's not close to anything in any report I've ever seen. You know what I think... I think our Carinan here found something that didn't belong to them.  But that opens up a whole lot of questions.  Do you really want this thing back in your ship?  We have no idea what it is."

"So you're saying we could be rich, or we could be taking home a bomb," Boris says.

Horace helps Boris to get the thing out of the hold and into the open air.

"Hey, what Horace does to wind down during downtime is his own business," Alwin retorts, with a sideways smile.

Einar continues to watch the ramp armed with his shotgun, if anything comes from the sludge he'll fill it full of holes!
This message was last edited by the player at 20:14, Mon 07 Sept 2020.

"Don't start counting credits just yet. We have no idea what that thing is and we still have the rest of the ship to explore," Heather said as she looked around rather nervously. There were mysteries afoot here that she didn't particularly fancy.

"Can we set up a tripod and hoist to raise it out of the hold? Or do you think we can lift it?" Horace tests it to see how heavy it is.

The more mechanically minded members of the team have been through "artifact recovery" before, although generally not on a planet surface.  Still, they came knowing they might have to move heavy objects.  They have a sling, a cable and an automatic grip hoist- with this, and some muscle, they can get the thing out of the hold.

As they work it free, and realize that the one thing they hadn't thought of, a simple wheeled dolly, would be very useful right now, the lights continue to twinkle on it.  And it is pulling atmosphere through it- air (what passes for air here) is being sucked into the matrix of little round spheres in some places, and expelled in others.  But it doesn't do anything active.

Something else does.

A hatchway from the cargo area to elsewhere in the ship opens up.  Like hatches on Carinan ships tend to be, it is made for efficient little robots operating without gravity.  It is round and set in a wall, about 30 inches/76 centimeters across.

Horace lets the artifact loose and draws his pistol!

Heather pointed her pistol at the hatch and waited, steadying her breathing and letting calm resolve fill her. She didn't want violence but wanted not to die in this alien vessel even more so she stood ready to open fire if need be.

Something that looks like a stainless steel crab crawls out of the opened hatch, with seems almost perfectly designed to allow it in.

It's a sphere, very well polished, with legs protruded from a band around the middle.  The legs end in tool sockets, and the thing seems to have equipped itself with a variety- despite the alien design, anyone with Mechanic 1 would probably understand their functions.

While there are no obvious weapons, applying tools designed to work metal on human bodies has a very harmful effect.

Six of its legs have no tools mounted- these are for walking.  It walks with determination towards the characters.

"I never saw one of those intact," Boris says.  "Repair bot.  I bet it would be worth something too!"

In reply to The Boss (msg # 65):

"You want to capture it?" Horace raises his gun to fire, fearful it was futile
This message was last edited by the player at 12:39, Mon 21 Sept 2020.

"I'm sure it would be worth quite a bit but right now I'm more concerned on how focused it seems on us," Heather said, keeping her gun down but ready to swing up if the thing attacked.

In reply to Heather MacKenzie (msg # 67):

Horace takes aim with his Auto-Pistol and shoots the robot!

14:43, Today: Horace Wymp rolled 5 using 2d6.  damage.

14:43, Today: Horace Wymp rolled 11 using 2d6.  to hit.

Sparks... whirring... a last flailing of tool arms... and smoke emerges from the bullet hole as the robot comes to a stop.

It doesn't look to have been made for battle.  The shell was only thin sheet, and one bullet stopped it.

"Maybe it's still worth something?"  Boris muses.  "Or maybe we should go with what we have.  Carinan ships are not stupid.  Robotic, but not stupid.  Maybe it sent in a maintenance robot just to explore.  See what's happening.  And you shot it."

In reply to The Boss (msg # 69):

"We can take them both for study. The robot can be fixed. I felt threatened by it with all of those tools, sorry if I should have waited."

They haul the alien "thing" that looks like a coherent mass of marbles out of the ship, and down to the little inflatable boat... which can't take both it and everyone.  It's a walk for half the party.

The punctured maintenance robot is somewhat easier to deal with, it's light and can easily be carried by a leg.  It's like a big crab.

But this does mean that a few of the party members will either have to slog back through slush- good thing environmental suits are heated! - or wait for the boat to make a second trip.

Of course there is a brand new complication... maybe.. or maybe not...

Back on the Albatross they've been monitoring the radio traffic from the alien ship.  It was rising in intensity steadily, but once the alien artifact is away from the Carinan ship, it's gone.

Nothing.  Poof.

In reply to The Boss (msg # 71):

Horace will wait for the boat, not wanting to 'swim' with the robot. "Tell Einar to secure it away from everything, for all we know, it could be a Carinian! I'll wait here for you to come back for now. Anyone else willing to wait? Boris?"
This message was last edited by the player at 12:09, Tue 06 Oct 2020.

Boris is reluctant to let the "thing" go without him, but there's only so much room on the boat, and walking back seems... unpleasant.

"I stay with you," he says.

The boat heads back towards the Albatross.

"That's not a Carinian," he says flatly.  "This ship acted so strangely.  Unlike any other Carinian ship.  When a Carinian ship is damaged and can't escape, it destroys itself, to prevent humans from doing exactly what we just did.  This one took great pains to preserve itself.  And if it was a Carinian, what would it be doing in its own cargo hold?  Wouldn't a Carinian on a Carinian ship rather be anywhere else?  This is something strange, something the ship made great efforts to keep intact and functional, where any other Carinian...

"....uh oh."

"Uh oh? What uh oh?" Heather asked, turning quickly from her place in the boat to look at Boris.

In reply to Heather MacKenzie (msg # 74):

"A Carinian that decided to take US with him!" Horace said.

(Boris and Horace are back at the Carinian ship, waiting for the boat to return.  Heather is with it now)

The inflatable boat reaches the Albatross, and they wrangle the strange alien things out of the boat and into the ship's hold.

It has changed shape.  It is still a big cluster of tiny marbles, but now they are packed tight into a dense sphere.

Back at the Carinian ship, waiting for the boat to return...

"It might take us with it, if it blows up or does something like that," Boris says.  "We should put some distance between us and it.  It might be tricky footing but it is better than blowing up if this thing suddenly remembers it is supposed to do that!"

In reply to The Boss (msg # 76):

"Lead the way, if you sink, I know to take another path." Horace says with a grin.

Boris looks out over the broad expanse of slush.

"I have no idea what the way is other than that way," he says, pointing in the direction of the Albatross.

He takes some experimental steps towards it.  Then he stops and looks back at the Carinian ship.

"Nothing is making sense.  Carinian ships have self destruct mechanisms and use them whenever they are in danger of being captured.  They would rather lose the ship than expose the technology.  So all we recover are parts and pieces.  Always.  Then there is this thing we find.  It is obviously so important that the Carinian ship does not destroy itself, instead, it makes a crash landing.  Maybe to wait for other Carinian ships to rescue it.  Instead we show up.  We take the thing off.  Now that should end the Carinian ship's reason not to destroy itself, right?  So it should have.  But so far it hasn't."

He starts walking away again, slowly.

"Maybe it needs time to warm up?"

*** *** *** *** ***

Back on the bridge of the Albatross.... the ship's sensors show that the thing is very electromagnetically active, and busily broadcasting on a number of frequencies simultaneously.  Very dense, rapidly changing signals.

The computer scientist makes sure all the cyber security systems are up and running, especially for all the vital ship equipment.

"Let's not have that thing decide to start our engines or shut off life support," Hannah says.

The boat goes back for the others.

In reply to The Boss (msg # 78):

"Maybe we should wait Boris, they'll be back in a few minutes." He steps off and follows Boris through the slush.

In reply to Horace Wymp (msg # 79):

"How do we damp it with an ECM somehow?" Einar wondered out loud.

Horace continues to trudge through the slush, hoping the ship doesn't blow up while they are too close.

ECM...

It's one of those "so advanced it's almost magic" things that most people, even among starship crews, knows very little about.  It's always been like that- ECM began appearing in it's "real" form in the Cold War, and a half century later all but a tiny fraction of humanity had any inkling of how it worked.  This was by design, as it was always a very classified subject area, and also because it involved an appreciation of sensor and computer operations that most people didn't have.  And no one studies obsolete ECM, because its useless.  The only time its actually taught is when it is cutting edge and top secret.

It's common enough, though, so that every military ship and every major commercial ship is equipped.  But not the Albatross.  It's systems were classified, and stripped out when the ship was converted over to civilian use.  New equipment is expensive, and the crew hasn't acquired any.

Of course what the ship could really use now would be a Faraday Cage, a very simple box of conductive material that blocks electromagnetic energy.  (A microwave oven is a Faraday Cage).Characters with the right skills could assemble one around the alien thing, using equipment on the Albatross.  But it's not something they can just "activate" with the flip of a switch.

Hannah, though, reports that all of the ship's critical systems are secure.  She's a computer scientist, this is right up her alley.  She has set a "watchdog" program to look out for strange activity in the ship systems, and so far, absolutely none.  Firewalls protect all of the ship's operating software from outside interference... that IS standard.


** *** ** ** ** ** **

Boris and Horace try to put some distance between themselves and the Carinian ship.

"I'm a little surprised that it hasn't destroyed itself," Boris says.  "On the one hand I feel like we could go back for more.  On the other I know that what we do have is extraordinary, and why tempt fate being greedy?  As they say, better is the enemy of good enough."

The boat returns for them, and picks them up.  Very shortly thereafter, they are back with the Albatross and the group is reunited.

"Well, what do we do about the electronic signals coming off of it? We can't dampen it with our computers, who can build a Faraday Cage around it? I'm a computer expert, not electronics, so I can help if needed."
This message was last edited by the player at 15:00, Sun 01 Nov 2020.

Horace is quite a computer expert!  A few things he would realize, then:

It's sending signals, but very weak signals.  It certainly can't be violating the basic laws of the universe, so those weak signals will proportionate to distance squared.  At this strength they're not going to get very far.

But the ship is another matter. Certainly the ship can be reached, and the computer scientist on board seems to know what she's doing, making sure all the ship's important operating programs are isolated from any outside influence.

She's only one person and working on a ship she's not all that familiar with, though. Horace would realize that if its security he's after, helping out there is probably the best thing he could do.  Computer 3 is nothing to sneeze at.

In reply to The Boss (msg # 84):

"Oh, I can help secure the ship's systems from it too."

"I would really like to know if this is one of the Carinian's or not. If we could get a datapad or terminal that's completely isolated from any kind of network or, better yet, take away any ability to access a network, we would hook it up to this...whatever it is and see if we can communicate with it. If this is a Carinian then we're going to be the ones to make First Contact," Heather said, sounding very excited at the possibility.
This message was last edited by the player at 23:33, Sun 08 Nov 2020.

Aboard the Albatross, Heather tries isolating a single portable datapad and using it to communicate with the Carinian.

The first part of this is quite simple, and she has more than enough competent help around.  Hannah is a computer scientist and Horace is an expert as well.

They use an ordinary datapad, and effectively wall it off, isolating it from the ship’s computers, which themselves have some serious firewalls around the key systems.

There are some hitches- some of the ordinary abilities of the datapad are designed to tap into more powerful computers nearby.  But the datapad is sophisticated enough to be fully functional entirely on its own.

While this is going on, they make preparations to leave.  Whatever is left behind might be extremely valuable, but compared to what they have, which looks like it goes beyond “valuable” to “historical”, it isn’t worth the risk.  Plus, a small ship, alone in a place no one else would think to look for you, is no place to gamble with fate.  The sooner the ship is back in Commonwealth space, with friendly radio traffic and controllers asking for course information and things like that, the more secure everyone will feel, even the most hard core spacers.

But once returned to space, they learn they are not alone.  There is a signal from another vessel, distant, but closing- maybe hours away.  It is Carinian.  The Albatross doesn't have the fancy signal analysis capabilities of a warship, but by the strength and type of signal, it seems to be a search radar from something fairly small.

In reply to The Boss (msg # 87):

"Hmmm, we're not up to snuff for a naval battle. We need to vamoose! Set course back to where we came from Mister Wymp!"

In reply to Einar Karvonen (msg # 88):

"Aye-aye sir, back to the starting line!" He sets the jump coordinates for the trip and sends them to the pilot too.
This message was last edited by the player at 20:02, Fri 13 Nov 2020.

Alwin makes note of the jump coordinates, even as he also considers any necessary evasive maneuvers, should they be required.  Not that it should come to that - the Albatross should be able to enter jump before the other vessel got too close.

Humans and Carinians build their ships differently.

Carinians have no critical on board life support to maintain.  This helps them out greatly.  They do have an atmosphere on board- their electronic systems require air for cooling.  But they are not nearly so picky, nor do they devote so much room.

On the other hand, they have disadvantages, which serve to balance things out.  They are far from home, and their ships are expected to last a long time in space without access to a steady supply of parts, replaceable, and regular maintenance.   They tend to be more frugal with fuel, but cannot match the quick dashes Human ships, especially the smaller ones, are capable of.

Alwin quickly puts distance between them.  The sensors keep tracking the Carinian's search radar from its pulses, but is unable to accurately identify it.

It is headed towards the planet.

There isn't any signal coming from their ship on the planet.  Finding a "dead" thing on a planet surface with a radar can be hard, and no one knows how good Carinians are with that.

But there is still the very, very mute signal coming from the thing aboard the ship, and Heather is busy trying to figure out how to interact with it.  There's no physical port to connect to, but the datapad naturally is wireless anyway...

So after a little work, she has it receiving the alien signal.

"Yes!" She says in excitement once the starts getting the signal. She quickly sets the pad to give her a visual of the signal so she can start examining the parts. She speaks nearly every alien language humans are able to comprehend or speak so she approaches this as methodically as she would any language and the first part is isolating something she can grab hold of.

In reply to Heather MacKenzie (msg # 92):

"Excellent Heather! You will be the first human to speak Carinian!"

"Maybe so. If I can isolate something that I can use as a cypher to start running a translation. It's not the first time I cracked an alien language but this is the first from a species that isn't organic and it's definitely nothing so simple as binary," she said as she started pulling apart the signal and checking for layers of signalling hidden amongst the rest.

"If it's a conceptual language that makes it harder but not impossible. This is my area of expertise and I don't give up," she said with a smile, still staring intently at her pad.

As far back as the dawn of the 21st century, there was discussion in certain circles of the hypothetical "AI Box" as a thought experiment: that is, given an Artificial Intelligence that might be smarter that humans, was it possible to keep it successfully confined?

Heather and her Datapad may be attempting to play that out... or not.  It's hard to tell.

Although communications are isolated to the datapad, doing so also keeps the more powerful computer of the Albatross from being used to directly monitor the datapad itself.  Doing so would create links that could be exploited.

So Heather, Horace, and Hannah have to work with what they have- one small datapad, and its own diagnostic software.

The incoming signals are extremely complex, at first, too complex for the datapad to even receive.  They exceed its capacity.  But they slow.

The flow becomes two way.  From what the gaggle of computer experts can tell, it is attempting to "read" the datapad... not easy to do, with no prior knowledge of the computer languages involved.  There is communication, but it is entirely mathematical.

"Right...math I can work with. Let's see if we can get an idea of the type of math our guest here is using. What is its base? We use Base 10 but they could use something far afield of that. Math is the universal language once we find something common."

She thought for a moment and then smiled before inputting something simple: the molecular formula of Hydrogen.

"75% of all baryonic mass is made up of Hydrogen so let's start there."

They send basic signals to the alien.
The alien sends basic signals back.

From there, they work hard on the alien signal.  From the look of things, the alien is working hard as well, because it continuously tests the datapad with different signals.  It was doing that to the ship as well, but stopped when it was cut off.

On the voyage back towards Merlin there is a breakthrough.  Maybe.  A strange one.

Datapads generally come with basic "bundles" of all the standard thingsthat the owner d oesn't even  think of.    Often, these are introductory versions of more advanced software available for sale.  Things like standard cooking recipes for the kitchen, translators, and even children's game.

Quite strangely, a children's game called “Fanny Flamingo Fun Farm" keeps activating on the data pad.  Turn it off, and minutes later it is back.

It wants you to choose a character.

"Ah hah! Now I'm getting somewhere. We're moving beyond simple maths into something our guest may have figured out a way to communicate through."

Heather looked through the characters and chose one that seemed to be most indicative of her personality and waited to see how the Carinian responded. She also highlighted the dictionary the pad was equipped with.

She was in her environment now. Establishing communication and opening dialogue between other races was her raison d'être. The excitement was almost uncontrollable but she didn't broker peace or negotiate trillion dollar contracts by losing her self-control.
This message was last edited by the player at 00:29, Sat 28 Nov 2020.

Computer games have come a long way since the 20th century.  “Fanny Flamingo Fun Farm" is a very simple game meant for young children, but it is a product of its time.  The game creates a world, richly detailed and perfectly animated, though of course, cheery, colorful, and cute.

All the characters are animals, of course.   And they are running a farm.. or in some cases being farmed.  It's probably not polite to tell the pigs why they are really here- although there don't seem to be any humans to eat them, and the list of virtual commodities the farm can sell doesn't include pork.

The game is named for the Flamingo character, which supposedly owns the farm but doesn't do much between comment, make suggestions, answer questions and tell others what must be done.  Players take the role of other characters.

Fanny Flamingo appears only to do its game thing, welcoming you, telling you to look over the place since its your first time here, ask any questions... and by the way there's someone else here to, maybe a friend you can meet!

Fanny introduces Heather to "62252964011", an armadillo clutching an assortment of farming and gardening implements.   Farms don't use those these days.  Mostly, that work is done by robot.  But hobbyist gardeners still know what a watering can is.

"011 is sufficient for identification here," the armadillo says.  "I have acquired devices used for the sustainment of life forms under my care."

In reply to The Boss (msg # 99):

"The smile on her face says Heather is communicating with the alien. Is he cooperating or is he feeding her falsehoods? We'll see about that in due course, but the communication is good, maybe we can have peace with the Carinian Empire."

Heather felt her pulse quicken for a moment as she realised she was indeed the first human to speak with a Carinian and whilst this wasn’t her first First Contact, it was the most important and significant of her life.

“Hello, 011. I am Heather. I will acquire what the life forms in my care require whilst we speak if that is acceptable.”

"It does not concern me," 011 the Armadillo replies.  "But your desire to do so raises my estimate of probability of favorable outcome.  Do you have experience with care for beings?  I understand that you are a real space being, this is your representation here.  Do you care for real space beings?"

"I do care for real space beings and have done so most of my life," Heather replied whilst beginning to gather what she needed for her animals. "I care for all beings. It is an integral part of who I am and has informed the majority of my existence. What of you, 011? Do you also care for real space beings?"

"Far in the past, the real space beings chose to live in synthetically generated space.  It is a very advanced synthetic space, much more sophisticated than this.  Each of the inhabitants lives many lifetimes and finds many opportunities for joy.  They have ceased to be real space beings.  Now they live entirely as synthetic sentient forms.  I am caretaker to my cell.  My cell is four beings, and myself.  We were removed forcefully from the array.  They are dormant now.  The array contains the synthetic spaces they would inhabit.  If I cannot return them to a synthetic space, I cannot awaken them."

After a pause, 011 adds:  "This space would be insufficient."

Hannah, who has been monitoring the exchange but is not connected to the game, asks, "Is that thing saying they are all sentient game characters now?"
This message was last edited by the GM at 01:43, Mon 07 Dec 2020.

"I believe what is being said is that the Carinians abandoned their physical bodies in exchange for being what is, in essence, a non-organic super intelligence," Heather said to Hannah as she typed a response to 011.

"Is this space suitable for you? If I provided three more such spaces would you be able to awaken the three other members of your cell. I could network all four together so your cell could share their space until I am able to find a space more suitable to the needs of your cell."

In reply to Heather MacKenzie (msg # 105):

"I'll be damned. Why do they attack us? Why are we at war?"

"I'm working my way there, Einar. You never open a negotiation or First Contact by asking those sorts of questions. Right now we're establishing rapport and feeling out parameters. We'll have time to get to the harder questions later," Heather told him.

In reply to Heather MacKenzie (msg # 107):

"Quite, sorry for breaking your train of thought." he replied.

Horace stood back and marveled at how fast she was able to communicate. They may get peace now, begin trade with them perhaps!

O11 does not accept the offer to let it's charges "live" in the farm game.  But the reason it gives is surprising.

"It is the simplest environment present.  That is why I chose it for communication.  But it is not sufficient as an environment for existence of the beings in my care.  It is too simple, it is too alien, it is incapable of creating sufficient sensory detail.  They will be aware that they are in a synthetic environment.  There will be fear.  They will be changed.  It is better to return them.

"I encountered a vessel that belonged to the same civilization that removed us from home.  I was able to partly disable the machine intelligence.  It was complex, but limited by its design and unable to change and adapt.  But I do not have operating data for that ship.  The necessary systems were destroyed."

Heather paused, brows creased in some confusion. Had she been wrong about things all alone? Was this something entirely different than what she had thought? "Are you one of the beings real space beings call Carinians?"

For a few moments nothing happens.  Nothing visible, at least.  Those watching the computer security screen remotely see a blur of frantic activity, on the part of the alien, as it searches through the information available… first in the “environment” it is currently occupying.

“This environment has no form with that name,” 011 reports.

Then it goes on to do further investigation, elsewhere in the datapad.  The datapad’s link to the ship’s computer has been severed, of course.  But the datapad has its own limited "local" memory, and it includes a lot of basic encyclopedia information.*

"That name appears in other references.  It is a space going civilization of unknown characteristics, that has been fighting with your civilization, and a coalition of other  civilizations.  We encountered it.  I have been stolen.  The sentient beings I care for have been stolen.  Now I understand."



*People who live their lives on fully settled planets don't need this- they are always within range of uplinking to a computer network somewhere, so their portable systems really don't store a lot.  Spacers, and people on the frontier, have much more capable datapads.  Sometimes, you can be a long way from contact with a computer net, and yet have an urgent need to verify the legality of a scrabble word.

Heather leaned back and blew out the breath she had been holding. "We have made First Contact but not, as we thought, with the Carinians. This is an entirely different race of non-organic sentience. One that shed their physical forms to live completely virtual lives. It would appear the...Caretaker I'm speaking to crashed the ship, kept it from self-destructing, and sent out the distress signal."

She bent forward over the pad. "Are your people all existing in arrangements like you and the sentients you care for, 011? Are you living in centralised locations the Carinians who took you might seek out? Your people might be in grave danger."

Having gotten that far, the crew learns a few more things quickly.

The alien cannot tell them where it is from.  This is not because it doesn't want to.  There simply is no easy reference system it can use.  If given access to the sophisticated maps available in the ship's computer... probably.

But that's a risk.  It has already proven it can seize control of a Carinian ship, although that was only a partial success.

The alien you are communicating with doesn't consider itself a true sentient being.  Those are the beings in its care, even though they both operate on the same system.

Their civilization consists of thousands of modules orbiting a star.  Each module has millions of "cells" similar to 011.  Each cell has a caretaker program and four "beings".  The modules within a cell interact in real time in a vast virtual space.   Because of communications lags they cannot interact with other modules in real time, so each module is a different environment- the beings can communicate between them.

What environments are being simulated?  A planet, that may or may have actually existed, ideal for the support of the original biological forms the now-virtual forms once had. The virtual beings all believe they are there, living happily in a paradise.

011 is able to make pictorial representations of them on Fanny Flamingo's Fun Farm.  They are tall, thin, trilaterally symmetrical, and covered with soft thin fur.

As the Albatross travels back to Merlin, another issue emerges with the Consciousness Researchers:

Does this go public?  The Albatross crew will certainly lose control of this discovery... but they will be sought after for interviews, seminars, documentaries...

The ICR is worried that they might lose control.

"We are talking about sentient beings here with all the rights that entails. If anyone but the beings themselves are going to be in control, it will be 011 and he will decide how much access he allows me or others to the sentients he guards," Heather said firmly before turning back to the pad.

"011, is it possible for me to communicate with the beings under your care? There is a host of things we all must discuss moving forward. The political situation you and your people have been thrust into courtesy of the Carinians is fraught with danger so I want to make sure all of you are aware of what you may find happening. I give you my word that as you are Caretaker to them, that I will act as Caretaker to you and, through you, them as well. Or is it impossible to talk with them given they don't know the reality of their existence?"

Boris the salvage expert is naturally suspicious of anything too good, like a salvage run turning out to be a historic contact.  He throws a little cold water on it... though not in front of  Heather and 011.

"Just thinking... what if what we've got here is a deranged computer thinking that all of its simulated citizens- you know, basically game characters, all it's seen is the Fun Farm, that's about as simple as it gets- what if all it has are simulations?  And it thinks they are real beings?  Maybe it's just crazy?"

------------------

011 is still talking to Heather, through the medium of Farm game.

"In the absence of an environment they cannot properly exist," 011 reports.  "It is hard to explain.  Part of the essence of being is the interaction.  Away from their world their programs would be unable to function within normal parameters.  They would be forced to realize their own status as non-real space beings.  This would significantly harm their life quality, and so it cannot be allowed.  I must maintain life quality.  At our world, there are beings who are prepared for this.  They understand that their world is not realspace, and they are kept ready for contact with other realspace forms that we may meet.  But my four are not of this type.  I am afraid I cannot risk the damage."

"Crazy or not once thing is certain: that is technology we have never seen before. We need to connect it to a larger computer so we can see if there are four consciousnesses in there like 011 says. There's also the fact that 011 managed to completely override the normal protocols Carinian vessels use when they crash or risk capture. It caused the vessel to crash, kept it from self-destruction, and sent out the distress signal that brought us here."

Heather stopped speaking and looked thoughtful for a moment. "I think 011 and the others like him would be very powerful allies to have."

Horace wondered what it was if it wasn't a Carinian? An ally against the Carinians maybe, might even make a trade destination. Only time would tell. Heather seemed to have everything under control. She was both beautiful and amazing. Too bad, She was out of his league.

"You do know that we, and me especially, are required, by law, to report First Contact to the Commonwealth. I have to send a message to my superiors in the Commonwealth and representatives of the Parliament. Failure to do so would mean loss of the ship, exorbitant fines, and prison terms of very long lengths," Heather said, a very grave look on her face.

"This is no longer a simple salvage. This is First Contact with a being that could possibly help the Carinian threat. This is bigger than all of us. Prepare for fame and fortune once this is declassified."

OOC: How do you know she's out of your league. You have no idea what she's looking for in a man. ;)

"I'll start on the report for you Heather, you can extrapolate and finish it off."

In reply to Horace Wymp (msg # 120):

"Very well Mister Wymp, take care of it, the ship is not to be trifled with."

As they make their return to Merlin,  Heather is able to gain more information about what kind of civilization created 011 and now apparently exists as virtual beings.

Or computer simulations of beings, from another perspective.

Or is there a difference?

011 is unable to supply some information- without access to a more potent computer system with astronomic information 011 cannot even begin to describe where in space its civilization is.

It cannot be too far away, as the Carelian ship did not have time to travel far before it began to lose control to 011.  Carelian ships are on the whole slower than Human ships, and on long journeys they tend to be even slower, because they are traveling extremely long distances and must be frugal with fuel and other resources.

Getting a rough idea of the time and an estimate of how fast a Carinian "Junkyard B" could have been moving during that time, it is likely somewhere between 50 and 100 light years.  That's too long for most Human ships to travel without refueling.  The Crossers manage distances like that, and some other civilizations do it with ease.  For Humans, only some specialized research and military vessels can make a run like that... and return.

There are several key turning points in the history of an intelligent species.  Once this was pure speculation, now, with alien civilizations to study, it is science.  One critical point is the development of "true" artificial intelligence, generalized machine intelligence that functions at or better than the intelligence of the civilization creating it.  It is considered such a dangerous event that it is forbidden by the aliens who sponsored the transition of Humanity to a space traveling culture.

011's civilization took a different path.  They developed AI technology and soon saw AI programs as a way to cheat death and live in paradise: they created themselves... or simulations of themselves... and moved into virtual worlds that catered to their whims.

According to 011, this wasn't the result of individuals thinking they would "transfer their souls" into a machine, there was nothing metaphysical about it.  At first, they were fully aware that that the original biological being died.  But they did it, at first, to preserve loved ones.  They never had to say goodbye.

A curious but in hindsight predictable thing happened.  These preserved virtual minds were such good copies that, from their own point of view,  they felt what the originals did.
 If you created a virtual copy of your dying mother, the copy loved you.  Just as the biological beings did not want to say goodbye to the dying, neither did the virtual beings.  So over time, they persuaded others:  life is better this way, when your time comes, join us.  Or maybe join us before your time comes... all that flesh is holding you back from really enjoying life.

There have been no biologicals for a long long time now.  Each of the billions of virtual citizens has lived thousands of lifetimes- memories are periodically "renewed" (because how can you be an authentic simulation of yourself if you carry around thousands of years of memories in your head) and lifetimes reset. The virtual environments improved over time. Eventually, the AI masters discovered that the citizens were happier not knowing the environment was virtual, because as long as they knew, the knowledge that the world wasn't real could affect them.  So eventually, as the lives were reset and the virtual environment became advanced enough, that knowledge was simply cut off.

They all think their lives are absolutely real.

Except for a few.

The AI programs realized that there would come times when decisions would have to be made that should be made by "real" members of their society.  When this becomes necessary such as in contact with other civilizations, the AI's "activate" a few- virtual recreations of individuals who know they are virtual recreations.

According to 011, these are recreations of individuals who were praised for their wisdom in their original lives.  When- if- true contact is made, it will be with these, not the four random and unlucky individuals currently dormant within 011's memory nodes.

All of that is way, way, way above 011's level, of course.  011 was just supposed to "manage" a few people, not make historical decisions or deal with aliens.  This was all just a ridiculous accident.

However...

"Should your civilization choose to contact ours, which would be necessary for the return of myself and the four I care for, you would be most suitable for contact.  It is logical, you have the most experience with us."

"With you and the other races we've encountered so far. I've been an ambassador, negotiator, and the like for almost 20 years. I'm a trained and experienced diplomat so this kind of situation is what I do. I would be happy to be the liaison between our people and your own and will do everything I can to make sure your people are kept safe and protected as the greater galaxy opens a dialogue with you and the ambassadors of the people under your care," Heather told 011.

"Can you show me what the people of your civilisation look like?"

Horace types out on his computer everything he was involved with in the initial encounter with 011. From breaching the hull to rescuing him from the Carinian ship and all of the details he could think of. She could add in the first contact stuff herself as he didn't know about that. She would fill in her part and then submit the form. This could get ugly. he wasn't looking for fame, just a living and a career.

Reporting it all to the Commonwealth diplomatic office...

But meanwhile, they learn what they can from conversations with O11.  It's a little one sided- 011 has very little curiosity about Humans. It is focused on returning home, and how it will do that, and if information seems to lead to answers in that direction, it asks.  Otherwise, it does not seem to care.

On the other hand, it shares information about the civilization that created it. There are limits. There are things 011 is unwilling or unable to discuss- technology, for one.  But you get the idea that they could have colonized beyond their star system, but never did.  And now, have no need or desire too, they have all found all the paradise they need.

The creatures that built the "ancestors" to 011 lived a long time ago.  011 never met them.  011 was built by machines who were built by machines who were built by machines.  The "Original Realspace Lifeforms" are far in the past.  They were shaggy furred creatures, adapted to a colder, drier climate than the one that nurtured Humanity.  They were very long lived, and looked something like large bipedal hairy groundhogs.  As the are currently represented in their virtual existence, their looks haven't changed- as far as they all know, they are still large bipedal hairy groundhogs, though there hasn't been one alive in... 011 is not clear on the time.  You get the feeling it must at least be in the tens of thousands of years since the last "realspace" creature of their kind died.

Sounds and vocal languages, as Humans have learned, are virtually universal among aliens.  Very few are naturally deaf.  Planets have atmospheres, physics demands that those atmospheres transmit sound, so life evolves to hear it, then make it. The sounds of the language tend to be those that go well with the acoustic properties of the atmosphere.  For these creatures, it was fairly close to Earth's.   So they had spoken language, and they had names.  As with most aliens, their word for themselves would translate something like "People" but as 011 manages to say in the Farm Game, it sounds like "Vigid".

So the Vigids were shaggy, cold adapted, long lived herbivores.   Like Earth beavers, they were into engineering long before they reached actual sentience.  Towns came first for them, then true intelligence.  They were social creatures, more so than humans- for Vigids, an introvert would be considered mentally deficient.

Perhaps the bonds they formed drove them to find ways to sustain them after death.

And perhaps the Vigid outlook is echoed in 011, who, judging by known records, is fairly friendly and outgoing for an alien computer program.  Although 011 is adamant that is not a Vigid and is not even sentient, none of the caretakers are.

(Hannah raises a small issue- How is it that the computer systems are not sentient but the "virtual beings" represented entirely within those systems are?  Isn't that a paradox?  011 has a ready dodge for this and every other issue it does not wish to address:  It is incapable of answering the question.)

And they deliver a report.

And await a reply.  When it comes, it is in the form of more questions.  It seems the local office does not know whether to assume that you have actually contacted an alien species, or merely communicated with a piece of lost alien technology.

The Commonwealth is a large bureaucracy sprawling across many worlds, and a desire for consistency and stability, coupled with the distances between stars, means that the more unusual a decision is, the longer it takes for it to happen.  The first instinct for many Commonwealth government officials is to pass it along to higher ups.

The Albatross is given a directive to wait, with no time estimate given.  Just a "We are working on it" from the local office at Merlin.

Waiting for the Commonwealth to come to a decision...

Contact with an uncontacted alien race is a Big Deal.  Heather knows this, of course.  There is a whole Commonwealth agency that does this.  It is entirely too easy to make cultural mistakes early on.  Different civilizations have different assumptions about what is right or wrong, and what is acceptable.  Lipaps accept that 99% or more of their juveniles will die before reaching adulthood- they consider this right and proper and several other civilizations, primarily the Oumo, did a lot of work to convince them that this is fairly unusual, and that most intelligent species will not look upon the deaths of their children as an important, wholesome, culling of the weak.

011 is too machine to be "nervous" but has increasing doubts about what to expect when the Human "specialists" arrive to take over.

Meanwhile...

There seems to have been a leak.  Suddenly, the ship is bombarded...

Interview requests from Merlin media.  Just about every producer on Merlin, from major networks to local semi-professionals.  Offers begin to roll in, with rewards depending on how open and how exclusive the crew is willing to be.

Liz does her best to assure 011 that has his (and his charges) best interests in mind. With that she sends off a rather uncompromising, sternly worded message to her previous handlers in the Commonwealth letting them know that as she has established trust and rapport with the AI, she will act as the point of contact and liaison between 011 and the Commonwealth.
This message was last edited by the player at 00:52, Mon 01 Feb 2021.

In reply to Heather MacKenzie (msg # 127):

Einar seals the ship and refuses to discuss anything until the ship is cleared to make a statement.

In reply to Einar Karvonen (msg # 128):

"Need any assistance Heather? Or is the communication line open and functioning well?"

"At this time the Albatross is still in orbit, and neither the crew nor the Navy has been able to give us a report.  Rumors, however, still swirl about the ship's unusual mission, and the so called Rogue Carinian observed during the battle that crippled the frigate Guadalajara. Does the Albatross actually have a Carinian aboard?  In the absence of official spokespersons, let's talk to some experienced starship officers for their opinions.  Captain Becker, should we be panicking?"

"Well panic is probably too strong a word, but yes, I am concerned..."

 

Lacking real news, the media outlets on Merlin do their best to speculate and invent some.  The crew of the Albatross isn't talking... so the media writers invent their own scenarios. Curiously, the one young journalist who raised "what if it's something entirely new?" was quickly ignored, and that line of thought never returned.

The Navy arrives.. a little late to the party, but they have a lot to do.  "Secure the area" seems to be a natural inclination, and a squadron of warships continues on towards the encounter area shortly after arriving at Merlin.  Left behind is a transport and an old "Patrol Carrier", the Brittany.  The Brittany was built to act as mother ship for a squadron of reconnaissance craft which would spread out to cover a lot of distance- the ship would watch over Humanity's long exposed flanks that were too huge for the battle fleets to keep an eye on.

They contact the Albatross.  They would like to send over a contact specialist to talk to this "alien machine".

Boris notes with a quiet sigh:  we already did that.

"I'm good, thank you, Horace. We're still establishing trust and setting parameters for future discussions. If I need anyone you'll be the first person I come to," she told him, giving him a genuine smile.

Said smile vanished when she heard The Navy had arrived and wanted someone, a 'specialist', to come in and speak with 011. "Please alert the Navy there's an Ambassador and contact specialist on site who has established trust with the being known as 011. Tell them it's Heather MacKenzie and I guarantee once that get back to the brass that I've assumed command where this first contact scenario began playing out. Remind them I have a Top Secret Need to Know security clearance and have an established rapport with the being entrusted to watch over his charges."

The others on the Albatross have never actually seen this in action before... but as it turns out, Heather MacKenzie is actually a name of importance in the diplomatic world.

It's not just Heather MacKenzie, it's Heather MacKenzie!

In the field of alien contact, there is something of a paradox.  If you are out there on the frontier, you won't be immersed in the world of academics.  If you are an academic star, you won't be out on the frontier where first contacts occur.  There are plenty of diplomats who work with the known aliens.  They do so from the "comfortable worlds", heading out into the void only rarely.  Few do it out in the frontier.

This creates a problem for the Navy in this circumstance.  On the Albatross, you can imagine what they must be thinking, even though it's unsaid:  First contacts are delicate, and if we barge in and take over Heather MacKenzie's contact, we might screw it up and then... that would be bad.

It would be different if it was just scavengers or explorers or even quasi-respectable scientists like the Consciousness Research people.  Then, they would be taking over from people who might not know what they're doing.

The fame that comes from initiating a first contact is not nearly so intense as the infamy that results from screwing one up.**  Heather already has the claim to the fame...

The mental calculations on the Navy ship lead to the inevitable:  there is little to gain in taking over, and much to lose.  So their next question is:  "Do you need assistance with this contact?"

Followed by a discreet suggestion that just in case their is a threat of some kind, they stay very close.


**Of all the known alien civilizations, the Mimosans are the most paranoid about messing up a communication with an alien being, and so they have a reputation as the galaxy's preeminent contact and diplomacy specialists.  The down side is that Mimosans communications are so detailed and precise, to prevent accidental misunderstanding or insult, that a good portion of it is actually complex and very redundant formal set theory, and very tedious.

"Assistance is neither required nor requested at this time vis-à-vis the contact however, I could use a shielded, high-powered computer with a lot of memory and processor power and no way of connecting to other systems either wireless or via a connection," Heather sent back.

She hit the internal comms. "Hey, Boss. A Navy ship is going to be dropping off a system with more power that I can move our guests into. They'll also remain close but not too close in case we run into any issues."

Those things just don't grow on trees.**  Portable high power shielded computers aren't things everyone carries.

But very fortunately, the Brittany does.  It's normal mission is to be mothership to a group of scout craft, sweeping through the long, lonely stretches of space core-ward from the Main Line, seeking signs of Carinian intrusion, or... whatever.

The scout craft are sophisticated little beasts, designed not for surveying planets to detect the faintest traces of signals and power emissions from alien ships, while staying as stealthy as possible themselves.  It's a delicate game- generally, the first thing a scout craft does when detecting a possible contact is quietly and gently position itself so that if the contact looks back in the direction of the scout craft, it is looking directly at a star.  At the same time, it aims its array of powerful sensors at the contact.  It is designed to detect and analyze the weakest, most ambiguous signals without being compromised itself.

Naturally, to do this, the scout craft has a high powered, very shielded computer.

They get to work on cleaning the computer on a scout craft, erasing all the data and software of possible military use.  It's full of advanced military signal processing stuff and they are in no mood to turn that over to an alien... even one talking to Heather MacKenzie.

They can clean the computer, they can isolate it, but removing it from the scout craft is a difficult procedure.

So they have a question.

They ask if this is a time sensitive matter.  If so, they will simply send over the whole reconnaissance craft.  Albatross has a big cargo hold.







**(Several alien races would dispute that point.  That's not the issue)

Einar waits on the navy to come with their aid with the alien, not sure when that would be. He gives Heather everything she needs that HE can provide.

With the Navy's aid, they set up a better isolated computer system for the alien to use.

When they mean isolated, they mean isolated.  When they learn that the alien is actually a computer system more advanced than any Human system, isolated means "away from an inhabited planet that it could somehow exploit by sending out subtle signals we don't even understand".

It means leaving, for now, the convenience of Merlin, as well as the salvage technicians.  The have been paid... of course they see potential bonuses here in making themselves available to the media.  The Navy folks advise against it.. but there's only so far they can go.  Things tend to "slip" when there's exciting news and money involved.  And as every government learns eventually, too much "information management" can lead to rumors and wild theories filling the void left by a shortage of actual information.

They expect it's only a matter of time before everyone knows that an exotic new alien civilization has been discovered- one which apparently exists only as a massive computer simulation.

Speaking of which...

011 finds the capabilities of the Navy's computer much more acceptable.  It meets the minimum standards for the "insertion" of its people.  It is not home, though.  It is strange and alien and lacks many things, for one, the billions of other Vigids.

011 is in something of a dilemma.  It understands what Heather is trying to do, which is communicate directly with it's people.  But by putting them in this environment, it would be violating a rule- the Vigids, except for a chosen few, cannot know that they are in an artificial environment because they would not have "true" lives.  And yet, without that, how can it return home?  But with that.. .how could it return home, carrying four lives that have been changed by "real" information?  They would not be permitted to rejoin.

Exploring the human game environments, it seizes upon an idea.

Backup points!

011 informs Heather and the others:  "I will create an environment suitable for the expression of the four individuals for whom I am caretaker.  When we return to our system, they must be restored to their current status.  All that they learn must be forgotten.  The environment will use the farm game theme as a base.   You will continue to experience it as a farm.  I can make the four Vigids approximate true Vigid appearance if you wish, or anything else.  But they will experience it differently.  Their experience will be in a Vigid agricultural facility approximating your farm.  They will not see you as you are but as Vigids as well.  I will use their memories to create images for them.  This is my attempt to reduce the shock.  I will create this environment now.  When it is done and you are prepared, you may enter the environment and communicate."

Horace just watched Heather work in wonder, not knowing how she could do it. He had great respect for her.

011 has one more condition...

"When you enter the farm environment to speak to my people, I cannot be there as well.  I am prohibited from revealing to them that they are in an artificial environment, therefore, I am prohibited from revealing my own existence.  They must not believe that the techniques of synthetic computation and simulation are as advanced as they are.  If that happens, it may inflict unnecessary distress on them, and I cannot allow this.  If you require me, communicate with me in this interface.  I can suspend all processes in the farm environment at any time. This will cause the subjective experiences of the Vigids to be suspended as well- they will experience no passage of time until processes are resumed.

"We may begin the new farm environment at any time, if you tell me how you wish to perceive them."

Up until now, 011 and Heather have been engaging in what is mostly a one to one meeting between two civilizations:  Heather, representing all of Humanity, and 011, representing the Vigids.

011 announces it perceives and imbalance.  If it is to place its four Vigid.. persons?.. intelligences?.. simulations... it seems there are no words that precisely define what they are.  But if 011 is to place them into the simulated farm environment, it is only fair that while Heather has broader access to Vigids, they get broader access to humanity.

Thus, the opportunity to engage in this contact is extended to others.

And yes, it may be that Heather is the only one with professional contact training.  On the other hand, none of the Vigids are.  Vigid "personalities" live multiple lifetimes, and are then recycled and restored to run again.  They are immortal.  But, their memories are not.

Of the four Vigid personalities currently stored, one is currently a juvenile, yet to experience its full life.  Another, according to 011, is in its later years, having had a family and spending much time devoted to the collection, breeding, care and display of exotic, colorful, aquatic creatures.  The others are adults and the parents of the juvenile.  One has a profession that sounds like "maid" but is apparently something of much higher status among the Vigids.  The maintenance of orderly and hygienic conditions in homes is considered a high art.

They are just four unfortunate, random beings who were stolen from their civilization by the interference of the Carinian- none are in any way professionally prepared for an encounter with an alien race.  In fact, the Vigids are not even aware aliens exist.  The caretakers are, but within the simulated environments the Vigids live, there are no aliens.

In reply to The Boss (msg # 139):

Are we still playing, or are we done now?

The question is, who is left here and what do they want to do?

I see three real options at the moment:

1)  Follow up on these strange virtual existence aliens, wherever that goes.

2)  Make some use of the brief fame and celebrity as word of this spreads- over Merlin first.

3)  Try to get back to ordinary business.

and 4

If there are only one or 2 players left, try to combine with the other group.

In reply to The Boss (msg # 141):

Those would work. Heard from Heather?

I’m here. Life has been pure madness for the past few months but I yet live.

In reply to Heather MacKenzie (msg # 143):

:-) Great! Healing yet or are you good now?

Some lingering physical and mental issues from the accident (PTSS) but I'm doing much better than I was before. Thank you for asking. :)

In reply to Heather MacKenzie (msg # 145):

Don't be afraid to talk about it, it helps healing. Glad you're doing better! We can hook back up in game and continue on soon.

"I am ready when you are, 011. As for how they will appear - please make them appear in forms they would find familiar so the forms they wear now. Too great a change may cause damaging cognitive dissonance," Heather told 011.

"Everyone be ready: this is truly First Contact."

Alwin observed quietly, aware that this was an important moment where much could go wrong if not approached properly.

In reply to Heather MacKenzie (msg # 147):

Horace waited impatiently, a lot of anxiety! but he waited with confidence in Heather!