Snark’s Egg
IT HAD been a busy week for Alice, George thought. She had backed up the SSC Laboratory’s press release about the Snark discovery with her personal account, which had been distributed internationally by Associated Press. At the press conference the day after the seminar, she had been designated as pool reporter to feed new information to the reporters that had converged on the laboratory to cover the story. And her Search article on the Snark discovery had been the magazine’s featured cover story for the week.
George had framed an enlarged copy of the Search cover. It now hung on the wall of the Snark laboratory opposite him. In the bookshelf below it was a copy of Time bearing its own cover heralding the discovery. He noticed that Alice was thumbing through a similar copy of Newsweek.
“How did Newsweek treat us?” he asked.
“Not bad,” she said, “but they did garble a few key points. They seem to think that Roger is also a member of the LEM collaboration. By the way, how is Roger? Any news?”
“I called the hospital this morning,” said George. “He’s at his apartment resting now. The doctor told me that his second seizure was worse than the first. I’m very worried.” Roger’s brilliance had been essential to the Snark contact. The doctors seemed to be having trouble establishing what his medical problem was.
George stroked his beard as he studied the terminal display. The Snark was simultaneously communicating with him, racing like a wildfire from database to database on the Internet, asking a continuous string of questions to various experts, and filling the latest in a series of ultra-high density one terabyte holographic optical platters.
The first level of the Snark download, about a terabyte of easily decoded information on the science, mathematics, biology, culture, arts, history, and philosophy of the Maker race, had already been transmitted and was being widely distributed and analyzed. Now the second level transmission was in progress. More detailed information about the Makers’ culture and science, along with information about the other civilizations that the Makers had contacted, was being received. The SSC data analysts on Team Snark were processing these new tapes offline and making the information they contained available on the Internet as quickly as they could, which was not nearly fast enough to satisfy the information-starved world tied into the network.
George pressed a switch and spoke into the microphone before him on the desk. “Tunnel Maker?” he said.
“I’m here, George,” the voice from the speaker on the desk, the voice they had come to identify as that of ‘Tunnel Maker’, said.
“I see you have been making good use of the Internet,” George said.
“Yes,” said Tunnel Maker. “Our historians have been studying your recent history, and they unexpectedly cleared up a nuclear astrophysics mystery that had been puzzling us.”
“Really?” Alice, standing behind George, said into the microphone.
“Yes,” said Tunnel Maker. “When our Bridgehead was moving through your detector, we noticed that it passed through a region of almost pure element 92, isotope 238, what you call uranium-238, I believe. The mystery was, why was there almost no trace of isotopes 234 and 235 which should be present in small concentrations. There were speculations that nucleosynthesis somehow worked in a different way in your universe than in ours.”
“We use depleted uranium in the LEM detector,” George said.
“So we deduced,” said Tunnel Maker. “We studied the history of your Manhattan Project and later nuclear weapons and nuclear reactor programs and concluded that the uranium-238 in your detector must be what was left over when the lighter isotopes were removed for bombs and reactor fuel.”
“Exactly,” said George.
“Your species has never made nuclear weapons?” Alice asked.
“No,” said Tunnel Maker, “we have weapons and conflicts, but nothing quite like yours. However, you have emerged from a very dangerous period, and you are to be congratulated. It appears to us that the enormous destructive power of the weapons you developed held your great nations in place without major conflicts long enough for the inherent problems of some of your political systems to become obvious even to their adherents. Our historians find this very interesting.”
“Yes,” said George, “we do live interesting times.” He had decided that Tunnel Maker should be told about the impact his contact was having. “You should know that you’re creating a lot of new problems here,” he said. “There’s been a stock market crash in the high technology and manufacturing sectors. The U. S. Congress is now debating a bill that would expropriate our Bridgehead and place it at Livermore, behind a wall of high security. Other countries are threatening censures, boycotts, and even military action if that is done. And our ‘open’ SSC laboratory has become an armed camp, with DOE security guards brought in from all over the country to protect us from the news media, the industrial spies, and the curiosity seekers. We on Team Snark have had to move our base of operations twice so far. We’ve now relocated below ground in a side tunnel of the ring.”
“It’s also been very exciting,” Alice chimed in. “There has been enormous coverage of your contact with us in the news media. I’ve become the ‘pool reporter’ for every news organization in the world.”
“You should not concern yourselves unduly about these problems,” Tunnel Maker said. “Change is always somewhat painful. This difficult initial phase is about to reach its successful completion.”
Alice blinked. “What do you mean?” she asked.
“We have almost completed the transmission of the second level information. In about one more rotation of your planet our transmission stream will conclude, except to answer questions you may wish to ask us. But now, I must ask you to help me. Our Concantation of Individuals is pleased with the way things have gone so far and has reached a consensus. I am authorized to proceed with the second phase of our contact.”
“What is the second phase?” asked George.
“In a manner of speaking, I’m coming for a visit,” said Tunnel Maker. “You will need to find a quiet place for the first part of it, well away from the busy environment of your laboratory.”
“A visit?” exclaimed George. His mind raced, trying to imagine how that might happen.
“Wow!” said Alice and began to type into her lapstation.
“Just how do you propose to do that?” George asked. “Do you plan to come through the wormhole?”
“Pick up the scintillator unit and look underneath,” said Tunnel Maker.
George stood, reached out and picked up the black object.. Beneath it, a cavity had seemingly been carved out of the plastic and pressed wood of the desktop. In the cavity was a small white sphere about the size of a large marble. He studied the underside of the scintillation bar. There was a small hole there just over the place where the cavity and egg had appeared, and a thin beam of blue light emerged from it. “What is this white sphere on the table?” George asked. “Where did it come from?”
“That is my Egg,” said Tunnel Maker. “I produced it by manipulating atoms with coherent radiation. In a sense, I am contained in that Egg. Pick it up, please.”
George did so. The object had a slightly rough surface and felt warm in his hand. “I see you used our table top in your molecular rearrangements,” he said.
“Yes,” said Tunnel Maker. “I hope the object that provided the donor atoms was not of great value to you. It was necessary to damage it in order to produce the Egg. You must now take the Egg and follow the instructions I will give. The survival of your species depends on you. I hope you believe this.”
George looked at Alice, then at the small white sphere in his hand. “What is it you want us to do with this thing?,” he asked.
“The second phase of contact involves teaching you new skills. This cannot easily be accomplished through a microscopic Bridge. The Egg you hold, if placed in the proper environment, will grow to become a Maker Emissary, a temporary replica of me, complete with my mental processes and memories. I have designed the Egg to grow in an environment that is common on your planet, a body of water that is rich in minerals and marine life. I believe you call it an ‘ocean’. Ours is a race of amphibians, and this seems natural to us. You should take the Egg to such a body of water, and select a relatively private place. For your own benefit, it should be well away from what you call the ‘news media’. You should throw the Egg into the water and wait 24 hours. At the end of that time our Emissary will emerge at the same location where the Egg was placed.”
“You want us to drive to an ocean and throw in the Egg?” said George. “Why? Why did you make the egg so that it needs an ocean? Why do we need privacy?”
“I did what I could do quickly with the resources available to me,” said Tunnel Maker. “The environment of privacy is best for the communication and learning that must take place. I hope you trust me. I mean you only good, and time is short, for reasons that you will learn about soon.”
“It goes against my good judgment to blindly follow orders,” said George.
“I understand,” said Tunnel Maker, “but I urge you to at least find a place such as I suggested while you are considering your proper course of action. It would be better for you to be in a place that is less public than your present location.”
George frowned.
Alice pointed at the Egg and nodded.
“OK, dammit,” said George, “We will do what you ask, at least the first part. What about this communication apparatus?”
“It will continue in operation,” said Tunnel Maker. “I believe there are others of your Team Snark who can see to its operation . But it would be better for the two of you to take the Egg and leave now.”
“OK,” said George. He took a large sheet of laboratory tissue, folded it around the Egg, and slipped the packet into his jacket pocket. Then he began stuffing papers into his briefcase.
Alice folded her lapstation and prepared to leave.
George called for replacements from Team Snark, giving the excuse that an unexpected emergency in Seattle had come up. Then together George and Alice walked through the limestone tunnel to the elevator.
When the elevator doors opened at ground level, there was Roger, who had been waiting to descend.
“Roger, you’re supposed to be at home resting,” said George.
“I’m all right,” said Roger. “Where are you going?”
He was wearing his perennial backpack. George noticed how pale and weak he looked. George was silent for a moment and looked inquiringly at Alice.
She nodded.
“Walk with us to the parking lot, and I’ll explain,” said George. He told Roger about the Egg and Tunnel Maker’s instructions.
“I’m going with you,” Roger said abruptly as they reached Alice’s car.
“But, you can’t, Roger,” Alice objected, “You’re ill. You should be home in bed.”
“I owe you an explanation about that,” said Roger. “Let’s drive.”
“Where?” asked Alice.
“Hm,” said George, taking at a Texas map from the glove compartment and studying it. “I think we should go to Interstate 45 and head south to the Gulf Coast area beyond Houston. The Gulf of Mexico is the nearest piece of ocean. Do either of you need to pack clothes or anything?”
Roger shook his head. “I can make do with what’s in here,” he said, patting his backpack.
“Reporter’ habits die hard,” said Alice. “I always keep a jump bag packed and ready in the trunk of my car. What about you?”
“I’ll buy some things when we get there,” said George. “Let’s go.”
Alice headed south on I-45. As she drove, Roger told them the tale of synaptine and his experiments with it. “Synaptine is wonderful and deadly,” he concluded. “Under its influence, I’ve been able to understand its actions far better than Susan had. It does create a kind of back-propagation loop in the human nervous system. And it also does other things. Have you ever wondered why large brains and intelligence are not more common in the animal kingdom?” He looked across at George and Alice.
“I suppose because it took time to evolve them,” said George.
“And then there’s the business of the head diameter and the birth canal,” Alice added.
“Which is nonsense,” said Roger. “Nature is extremely good at duplicating or enlarging an organ if it proves useful for survival. One can find thousands of examples of that in evolutionary biology. But only humans, dolphins, and whales have large brains, and in the latter two the brain structure seems more devoted to signal processing than intelligence. But, George, what happens when you make a neural network too big or give it too many layers?”
“Oh!” said George. “It goes unstable.”
“Exactly,” said Roger. “It has become clear to me that the problem with making big brains is not in producing them but in stabilizing them. It took nature a long time to evolve the stabilization mechanisms of the human brain. And it’s still not highly stable, as any psychiatrist can testify. We teeter at a delicate balance point on the edge of stability, and some of us fall over the edge into obsession, paranoia, manic-depressive cycles or epileptic fits.”
“And synaptine affects that stability?” asked George.
“Yes,” said Roger. “I’ve been having epileptic fits of increasing severity. During the last one my heart stopped, and an emergency team had to use an electric jolt to restart it. Susan’s rhesus monkey Elvis died last week of a similar seizure.”
“What about anti-epilepsy drugs?” asked Alice.
“My condition isn’t really epilepsy. That’s only a convenient label. The standard anti-epileptic drugs like ritalin have no effect on the problem and produce some really unpleasant side effects. I’ve tried them. I’ve been having about one seizure per week. The last one was a couple of days ago. I think the next episode, or perhaps the one after that, will probably kill me,” Roger said calmly.
“But why don’t you just stop taking synaptine?” asked Alice.
“A large concentration of synaptine was the trigger, not the ongoing cause,” said Roger. “Once the seizure syndrome is established, withdrawal of the drug has no effect. Besides, I’ve needed the intellectual boost I get from synaptine to understand the Snark problem. And I have a bit of it left. Perhaps I’ll need it again.”
George patted his pocket, where the egg lay nested. “Perhaps you will,” he said grimly.