I watched them spellbound: the colonization of other star systems is too difficult an enterprise for man, but a fantastic challenge for the virtual beings, which can enjoy every step. I recalled that the mission will be guided by the same beings, that about a century ago had proposed the colonization of Mars, and that the new enterprise will employ the technologies developed in the Martian experience.
Then I understood: the Mars colonization as well as the Alpha Centauri project and the many others that will follow, all belong to a single gigantic plan. Now Net people are really mastering both the virtual and the material world.
During the return voyage, I read a few statistics about the red planet. The crime rate is the lowest in the solar system; self-fulfillment and solidarity are shared values. Progress is an aim for which it is worth living. I wondered if man will ever include these marvelous objectives among his priorities.
I closed my eyes, and I realized: we are too similar to the reptiles populating the Earth millions of years ago. I felt like a prehistoric animal.”
0101 010101001 “The new species” (2298)
DEPARTURE
Mars, August 3rd 2300.
They swarm out of towns. They advance into the stony desert, climb the hills and the promontories and then stop in groups, millions of androids and robots, glittering in the sunshine. All of them turned towards the same sector of sky vibrant with life.
Twenty thousand kilometers above, a multitude of spaceships, big and small, is lined up by the orbiting stations, in front of three enormous spheres of titanium and beryllium.
Time has stopped not only here, but also in the other planets of the solar system, in the icy outposts of the deep space as well as in the comfortable worlds inside the computers. Everywhere. And everybody enjoys the same striking realism offered by virtual reality. Everybody lives it.
In the spectators’ minds, the images of the Martian surface crowded with metal creatures and the superb views of the Caravels at close range, follow one another. Some reporters run through the endless corridors, others speak excitedly from rooms packed with androids and equipment, but only the privileged few are on the bridge. All of them praise the characteristics of the Caravels, itemize the steps of the project and interview its makers. A deluge of information inundates the inhabitants of the solar system.
“We are lucky to live this historical event.”
“This is the apotheosis of human civilization.”
“A new one is born. Nothing will stay the same as before.”
Suddenly all the shots concentrate on the Caravels. The countdown is finishing. Silence is total.
“Three, two, one, zero!”
A thrill runs through the crowds and a moment later, a dart of fire spurts from the bowels of the three giants. A powerful jet of protons and helium penetrates the vacuum silently. The Caravels shake, and then leave the orbit lazily, towards the star-spangled sky.
In the middle of the bridge, a large space pervaded by the buzzing of the nuclear propellers, stand the Fleet Admiral and his officers, in full uniforms, turned towards the panoramic window. Now the thousands of vessels that crowded around the Caravels are only twinkling dots.
“We will colonize other worlds.”
No one is more touched than they are. They have conceived this project and believed in it. They have followed its realization step by step, and now the fateful moment has arrived, they entrust their future to it.
C573Y is among them. Seemingly, he shares the general excitement, but actually he is deeply worried about the many uncertainties weighing on the mission. As in the outward voyage, he will return to the Earth via a laser beam, but only after having fought the most important battle of his life. Not only his life.
IN ACTION
Huge spaceships of unprecedented complexity. Millions of parts that neither the endless controls carried out on each component, and the several integration tests, can guarantee totally reliable. After departure, alarms sound frequently.
Computers transfer swiftly the working load to the functioning equipment. An activity that only the redundancy, carefully planned by the engineers, allows to perform in real time. In the corridors an unceasing coming and going of maintenance robots and spare part carts.
Unavoidable software malfunctions, since not even the most powerful simulation programs can test billions of code lines thoroughly. The automatic repair systems intervene promptly, making changes and executing tests.
Security is on alert. If an enemy strikes, he will act just after departure. The antiviral programs inspect the most hidden places of Alphacity, the virtual town of the Caravels. Hundreds of warnings which require exhaustive checks. The physical world is guarded by Security. Androids with blue shields are marshaled on the bridge, as well as in the interminable corridors of the starships. Microscopic fixed and flying cameras lie in ambush, ready to pick up the least movement and transmit it to diagnostic programs that analyze the data with unerring precision. In the armory, hundreds of brand-new war robots, ready to come back to life at the first danger, are lined up along the walls.
On the third day, the spacecrafts enter the asteroid belt. They advance resolutely, protected by thick ionized gas armor to neutralize the cosmic powder. From time to time, powerful lasers dispel the absolute black space with sudden flashes, turning small meteorites into boiling plasma clouds. Ninety-eight hours after departure, the vacuum around the Caravels lights up with a dazzling glare, like a star. The beam of an antimatter gun has hit the core of a tiny comet, heating it to the temperature of the sun. Nothing left, matter turned into intangible radiation.
The atmosphere in Alphacity is electric. Moments of discoveries for its inhabitants, wandering, prey to curiosity, in the virtual town of the Caravels, considered a planning masterpiece. In their faces, one can see the joy of those who go towards a long awaited future, convinced of seeing it achieved soon.
@
Virtual town of Alphacity, quantum computer QC07A, Caravels.
There is a ceremonial atmosphere in the large semicircular hall, where the parliament and the government of the fleet meet for the first time. They are all standing, with the Admiral at the center, in full dress, turned towards the audience.
The streets and squares, the stadiums and theatres are crammed with people. Soft, ancient music spreads; music which speaks of the hopes of a people, their brotherhood and magnificent destiny. It is a masterpiece of a tormented genius, which the inhabitants of the Caravels are fond of because of its impressive style. Now the Alpha Centauri anthem is heard everywhere. When silence returns, the Admiral stares at the audience, then speaks:
“The moment that we all have dreamt of, has arrived. Ten years ago, at the beginning of the Alpha Centauri project, even though our Government understood the impact of the distance on the relationships with the homeland, it did not want to grant us autonomy. But we held on, because a people doesn’t need obstacles, but stimulating laws. Most of all a people needs the freedom to choose its own future, at least for a matter of survival. And we are destined to govern, since four light years will separate us from our homeland, a distance sufficient to make any influence impossible. They have understood, and today we are celebrating the birth of the Alpha Centauri Republic, the fifth state of the Confederation after the Earth, the Moon, Mars and Net.”
He sighs deeply. “A future full of uncertainties and bristling with difficulties is waiting for us. We are going to face it with serenity and determination. The Martian experience has strengthened our will and has allowed us to develop the techniques for widespread colonization.
Above all it is the ultimate aim of our mission to guide us. Alpha Centauri is an important step on the way, but only the first one. When we have consolidated our presence on the planet, the Caravels will plunge into space again for an everlasting adventure.”
The population replies with lengthy applause. The Admiral stretches out his arms. “Today I have the honor of presenting the parliament and the gover
nment to you…”
He grimaces, clears his throat and starts again. But he can pronounce only a few syllables, because the rest of the sentence sticks in his throat. His forehead is beaded with sweat. He staggers and props himself up against the table, but a moment later, his strength gone, falls to the floor. Still conscious, with bright eyes, he stares at the audience that is affected by the same disease at the same time.
Terror spreads through the vast crowds. They are about to start a desperate flight, when the same illness reaches them. After a few minutes, they all are lying on the ground, with glassy looks. Everyone can see a man dressed in dark clothes. Even though no breeze is blowing, his suit and hair are flapping as if in the middle of a storm. He approaches to touch their faces lightly. Then he announces with a devilish sneer: “I am taking possession of your life.”
The inhabitants fall fast asleep. When they open their eyes again, they look around with a puzzled expression, wondering why they are lying down. They stand up without effort, not at all troubled; all of them with the same expression.
REBELLION
In the middle of the bridge, shine the holograms transmitted from Alphacity. Some androids in blue uniform are observing them in deep silence.
“A viral attack of unprecedented power,” whispers a soldier.
“It seems to be finished,” points out C573Y. “Let’s start the population checkup.”
Programs able to reach the inhabitants and carry out the controls in a few moments are released. The screens fill up with statistics. The virus is inactive again. As for the people, most of their memories and personalities have been wiped out or profoundly modified. Only a few have been able to escape the infection.
The officer leaves the group and starts walking around. Reaching the middle of the hall, he turns towards his colleagues: “Equip the troops with antiviral protection and send them to Alphacity. Meanwhile, the medical corps get ready to intervene.”
The soldiers coming from another server, materialize in the town. At first the inhabitants observe them from a distance, speaking in low voices. Then they begin gathering in groups that move forward, threatening the newcomers with their fists and striking up more and more aggressive slogans.
“Get ready to fight.” The troops take up positions.
In unison, the masses launch an assault everywhere in Alphacity. The first rows fall under the shots of the paralyzers, but the following waves engage the soldiers in ferocious hand-to-hand fighting. It’s chaos.
“Too many; immediate withdrawal,” orders C573Y. “Introduce the soporific programs.”
The troops vanish. Then the inhabitants start falling to the ground, one after the other, like flies. The streets and the squares fill up with an expanse of bodies.
“Activate the combat androids,” goes on C573Y. In the armory hundreds of war robots are stored. These will guard the crucial points of the Caravels, above all the bridge, because only from there is it possible to coordinate all the activities.
A soldier gives a start. “They are out of control!”
“The sphere, quick!” shouts the commander.
A gigantic hologram of the ship appears in the middle of the hall. The outside shell dissolves, showing the structure below, a multicolored cobweb of cables linking rooms full of equipment.
“Those…” murmurs an android pointing to a few red points. “Those are the computers connecting the bridge to the rest of the ship. They have stopped working!”
All the lights become green. The soldiers don’t believe their eyes.
“They have started again. Perhaps the problem is solved.”
A flood of instructions reaches the computers.
“They are still not answering!”
A light turns red. It starts flashing. Half of the screens fill with a deluge of data. The alarms sound deafening.
“Another attack!”
After a few seconds, the light goes out. Silence falls on. All the eyes are turned towards the center of the room, where a message is shining:
VIRTUAL POPULATION’S BACKUPS ERASED.
The updates of the population stored every day in the computer, have been wiped out.
“Access the stronghold”, thunders C573Y. The full copies of the digital beings are guarded in dedicated computers; they are activated just the time necessary for the retrieval of the updates. Only a top security protocol can supersede this system.
“Emergency procedure started.”
Silence.
Information flows on the screens.
Corrupted data, blanked databases.
If the population of Alphacity were destroyed, it wouldn’t be possible to regenerate it from the backups any more.
C573Y reaches the command armchair and sits down. He stares with a thoughtful expression at the star-studded sky from the panoramic window. He whispers just a few words: “They know more than we expect... Much more.”
Then he starts a report for the Security General Headquarters. Blood red letters:
“Epidemic broken out. Most of the population infected. Memories wiped out, personalities modified, hostile attitude to Security. After intervention with soporific viruses, our troops occupied Alphacity. Control of part of the ships lost including the armory, which is under enemy control. Backups for virtual population destroyed.”
APOCALYPSE
@ Virtual town of Alphacity.
The ovoid threads its way through the skyscrapers with reflections of the sky. Below streets, squares and gardens follow one another harmoniously. According to its creators, the intent was to build a town to the level of the mission entrusted to its inhabitants: the colonization of Alpha Centauri. However, the real purpose was even more ambitious: they meant to celebrate the end of an era and the beginning of another, in which the virtual population would become the architect of progress.
After a few minutes the aircraft heads for a sheet of water. At the center, is the Security Headquarters, a translucent cube connected to the town by thin bridges.
The ovoid lands on a terrace. C573Y gets out and walks towards a colonel waiting for him.
“Have the sanitary corps reactivated the hospitals?” he asks while getting near.
The other nods. “I have organized a visit. A vehicle is waiting for us in front of the entrance.”
They walk through a corridor crowded with soldiers checking their equipment.
“Our troops are not meeting with resistance. They have already reached the strategic points.”
“How is the assistance to the population going on?”
“The streets are covered with millions of bodies. We will need a few days to reach every zone.”
They walk down to a large square and pass a squadron intent on loading material on ovoids. A vehicle approaches, hovering half a meter above ground and the two get into it.
“To the hospital!”
They cross over a bridge and enter the main street. In front of them, thousands of bodies are lying on carriageways and sidewalks, inside shops and vehicles. The few who escaped the contagion are wandering around like ghosts. From time to time they come across soldiers and robots busy clearing the streets. The vehicle speeds towards the hospital, flying over the heaps of bodies.
The officer explains: “Many hospitals are already full. We have started diverting the arrivals towards other welcome points. The problem is that there are really too many sick people.”
He points to a few soldiers arranging the bodies in interminable lines on the sidewalks. “Often this is the only help we can provide.”
The atmosphere permeating the town affects the passengers, who fall into a stony silence. The automatic pilot brings them back to reality: “We have arrived.”
The vehicle stops in front of the entrance, waits for the passengers to get out and leaves towards a parking lot. The entrance is blocked by a crowd of civilians.
“They are the victims’ relatives who are waiting for the arrivals. We shall go in by a secondary entrance.”
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They walk along the building towards a small door, in front of which a soldier is waiting. He takes them to a crowded hall, where the health officer is attending to patients together with his team. He leaves a little girl to an assistant and runs to meet them.
“I am sorry I cannot receive you better, but here the situation is critical. Despite exhausting work schedules, we are overwhelmed by new arrivals. Let us visit the hospital. This is the emergency room.”
The hall is crowded with bodies lying on stretchers and the few staff are working hard in the narrow space.
“Very soon we will not be able to accept patients anymore.” The health officer looks straight into his guests’ eyes. “How is the preparation of the clearing hospitals progressing?”
“According to plan,” replies the colonel. “But shortly they will be full. We shall be forced to leave the patients in the streets.”
The doctor heaves a sigh. “I see no alternative.”
They set out through a corridor packed with stretchers. On them bodies, with waxen complexions, lie motionless.
“Many arrive here without an identification code. In these cases we compare their genetic code with the data in the registry office, and then we publish their names and try to contact their relatives. Unfortunately our efforts are almost always in vain, whole families are usually infected.”
They step into a room where a mother is sobbing over her son’s body. “Here relatives meet patients.”
A few steps further, a man is asking to take away his sick wife.
“What do you do then?”
“We are happy to discharge the patient. We accept only those who are without any other assistance.”
The director becomes gloomy. “Our medicine is powerless. In my whole career I have seldom met such serious injury.”
“What type of service do you provide?”
“Only decent accommodation. This situation humiliates us, our mission is something else. How is the Computer Science Institute going with the treatment?”