DeathWorld E-Book

Mads Aggerholm

• Herausgeber: Books on Demand
• Kategorie: Fantasy und Science-Fiction
• Sprache: Englisch

Seitenzahl: 545

Veröffentlichungsjahr: 2015

Beschreibung

The spaceship 'Gateway' is heading for an earth-like planet, which Earthlings have given the working title of ‘New Earth One’. Initially people thought it was an uninhabited world (apart from any possible wildlife), which the billions of people on Earth could take over. So they start to plan an expedition, which will determine whether this planet is suitable for colonisation. But, while studying the planet, they become aware that it has intelligent life and even a modern civilisation. So the purpose of the expedition changes from being a pure takeover to creating contact with the indigenous population and initiating trade cooperation. Jack Lee is a moderately alcoholic psychologist-cum-anthropologist on the expedition. His task is to analyse the social and societal conditions of the people. What Jack finds is an almost paradisiacal world populated by young, healthy and beautiful people, and a society where crime, greed and selfishness do not exist. But as Jack’s investigation uncovers more and more of how the system works, he discovers that the truth is very different. Someone is clearly trying to kill off the entire planet’s population by means of an unimaginable hoax that has already been going on for centuries. But why? Jack and his friend, Boris the computer expert, suddenly have a pretty big job on their hands. And it doesn’t get any easier for them as it gradually dawns on them that the expedition’s real purpose is not quite what they thought...

Leseprobe

Table of Contents

Chapter 1 The Spacecraft

Gateway.

One Day Away from New Earth One.

Chapter 2 Seven Months Earlier

Chapter 3 Waiting Time

Chapter 4 Nine Years Earlier: New Arizona Medical Centre, Earth.

Chapter 5 The Time Approaches

Chapter 6 Landing

Chapter 7 Robots

Chapter 8 To Work

Chapter 9 Status Meeting, First Day

Chapter 10 Making Contact

Chapter 11 Status Meeting Two

Chapter 12 Aoya

Chapter 13 Close Encounter

Chapter 14 Morning

Chapter 15 Field studies

Chapter 16 Status Meeting Three

Chapter 17 Excursion

Chapter 18 The Sea

Chapter 19 A World without War

Chapter 20 Status Meeting Four

Chapter 21 Parallel Worlds

Chapter 22 Parallel Communicator

Chapter 23 A Moving Meeting

Chapter 24 A Gruelling Meeting

Chapter 25 Hitting a cushion

Chapter 26 Status Meeting Six

Chapter 27 Action

Chapter 28 The Ferry

Chapter 29 The Captain

Chapter 30 Shadow Island

Chapter 31 Scientists

Chapter 32 Havoc beyond control

Chapter 33 The Communicator Station

Chapter 34 Next Step

Chapter 35 A Plan

Chapter 36 Action

Chapter 37 The Expedition Ends

Chapter 38 Postscript

Chapter 1

The Spacecraft Gateway. One Day Away from New Earth One.

Jack Lee was woken up in his cabin by an insistent banging on the door.

-“Yeah, yeah!” he shouted. “I’m awake!”

He glanced fleetingly at the little coffee table: a half-empty bottle of whiskey, a full ashtray and a pile of books. He wondered whether it could all be removed instantly, if it was the Colonel who had now decided to call in on him.

-“Dostoyevsky, Jack! Get your butt out of bed! There’s a briefing in ten minutes!” was the message from the other side of the door.

Thank goodness. It was Boris – ‘The Russian’ as he was known – a computer expert and Jack’s closest, and only acquaintance on board.

-“Wait a moment, Boris. I just need to get up and put some clothes on, for heaven’s sake!” Actually, a pure formality. He had slept with clothes on. Well, there had been a bit of extra partying the day before. Just like most other ‘days before’ in fact…

The Russian opened the door and entered. He just about filled the entire doorframe, tall and broad, a bit like a huge tree trunk.

-“Dostoyevsky! You’re already dressed. Ha ha ha. You’re bloody quick!”

-“Boris, is it absolutely necessary to say ‘Dostoyevsky’ in every other sentence?”

-“Da! It’s the only Russian swear word I know, Jack. It’s important not to forget one’s roots!”

-“Give me a break! If you’re Russian, I’m Jesus.”

-“I’ll have you know my great-great-grandmother was from Vladivostok, Jack.”

-“Crap. My uncle’s sister’s husband’s grandfather was from Korea! Does that make me Korean?”

-“How on earth would I know that? Say something in Korean!”

-“It’s a dead language. Like Afrikaans, Greek, Danish – and Russian, if you hadn’t noticed.”

The good-natured banter continued while Jack slipped on a clean shirt – well, at least one he had not slept in.

Jack took the glass from the table and poured half of the remaining whiskey into it.

-“Fancy a slug, Boris?”

-“Won’t say no!”

Jack emptied the bottle in the other glass.

-“Bottoms up!”

-“Nastrave!”

They clinked glasses and downed their drinks in one.

-“So what are we up to today? And when?”

-“Jack, you never bloody well know what’s going on. We are orbiting New Earth One tomorrow. We need new language packs installed. And so we’re not caught with our trousers down, we’re having a briefing today. In fact, now! So move.”

-“Briefing my ass! We’ve had briefings every week since the tour started. They say the same thing every time! I know it off by heart!”

-“This time is the last, Jack. Cheer up!”

Colonel Ian Glasston stood at the door of the meeting room and nodded kindly to the various people as they arrived. Jack and Boris entered and sat at the very back of the room. The place was already half full with the various scientists, researchers and other civilians.

Everyone, including Jack and Boris, had the rank of Captain. This was a technicality to prevent the hassle of differentiating between civilians and soldiers. Whatever people thought about the value of the mission as a research expedition, there was no escaping the fact that it was under strict military control. But at the same time the leaders had to acknowledge that it would not work having some sergeant or another bossing around a professor of biology.

Over the next few minutes the rest trickled in. Harris the biologist, Bridgestone the geologist and other technical officers. Finally everyone was assembled, and the Colonel walked behind the desk that served as a podium.

-“Good morning. It looks like we’re all here, so we might as well start.” The Colonel turned to the blackboard behind him.

-“We have a pretty short programme. First, our physicist Jürgen Schultz will say something about the spacecraft’s mode of operation. Yes, yes. I know lots of you have heard it all many times before, but it is important that everyone understands at least the basics and get them planted in your memories again.

Then I will tell you about what we know about New Earth One. Then finally our biologist, Dan Harris, will tell you about our language implants. We’ll deal with the rest later today or tomorrow. Any questions?”

-“I have one,” Jack muttered to Boris. “Why do we only have a briefing once a week, when we could have one a day?”

-“Jack, is there something you’d like to share with the group?” asked the Colonel from his desk like a teacher in primary school.

Jack spoke up.

-“No, Colonel, sir. Just a bit of tummy trouble.”

-“Good. I now give the floor to Captain Schultz.” Jürgen Schultz was a small, professor-like man. A pair of tortoiseshell glasses and he would look like a cartoon version of the mad scientist. Despite that, he was razor-sharp. His biggest problem was imparting his knowledge, because like all geniuses he did not consider that ordinary people could not keep up with him. But if you took the time to listen, he was actually worth listening to.

-“Good morning,” began the professor cheerfully. “I’m going to tell you something about this spacecraft we’re in. As you know, in the last month we have been moving faster than the speed of light. In itself this can be considered something of a revolution. But, contrary to popular opinion, there is no magic involved in travelling faster than light. I’ll try and explain.

If we take two people, A and B, and place A in a rocket with enormous quantities of fuel, and then let him fly to Alpha Centauri and back again, he can do it – er – let’s say two weeks. Alpha Centauri is located 4.3 light years from Earth. As a result, A has moved many times faster than light.

The point is that A has moved in his own inertial system. He believes that two weeks have passed, and they have – for him! The problem is that on Earth, which is not part of his inertial system, more than nine years have passed. Seen from Earth’s point of view, A has never broken the light barrier, but moved at a rate of 99.9999% of that of light. And that is precisely where the problem is.

A scientific breakthrough six years ago revealed a sophism in terms of space-time. Despite research, for centuries no one has ever managed to manipulate time itself, and the dream of a time machine has always been – and always will be – a dream.

Still, it was discovered that an object at a given speed can be moved in time! And the higher the speed, the more it can be moved! It is a property, which, in line with the theory of relativity, applies to all speeds, but cannot be measured as long as the velocity is relatively small. An apple falling from a tree, or an aeroplane moving with Mach3, are in principle located in their own inertial systems, where time passes more slowly. It’s just so little that it has no meaning and cannot be measured with any known instruments.

To cut a long story short, an object with near-light-speed can be moved in time within the frame, which is formed by the inertial system of the surroundings deducted from its own inertial system. To address it mathematically, one can express it thus…”

Professor Schultz continued to cut a long story short, while writing formulas on the blackboard.

Jack’s thoughts began to drift. He thought back to the years he lived with his Uncle Wilhelm from the age of 16. His parents had died in a car accident on their way home. He had been sitting at his computer playing some game or other, and knew that when the grown-ups walked in the door, he would have to stop and do some homework. He longed for them to be delayed, just half an hour, maybe an hour.

When the doorbell rang, he was not really surprised that they did not just let themselves in. Simply, he just thought wishes were not what they were cracked up to be.

Half a minute later he had forgotten all about computer games and a wish that his mother and father would be delayed.

Now he simply wished that it was his mother and father who had arrived, and not two nice police officers with friendly, yet serious expressions on their faces.

Boris poked him, and Jack returned to reality.

-“…and by using a reverse photon current, one will see that the acceleration Gx will result in…” continued the professor up at the blackboard.

-“Jack, you’re snoring!” whispered Boris.

-“Thanks,” Jack whispered back.

Unfazed, the professor continued with his lecture:

-“…since we are using antimatter as the motive power instead of chemical rockets, it means firstly that the fuel can be formed directly during the trip, secondly that the velocity…”

Jack thought about getting a drink.

-“…and in this way space traffic has been given a boost that surpasses what the jet engine did for air travel. Instead of a space capsule the size of a phone booth riding on the tip of a constant explosion, we have the opportunity to travel in a giant container all the equipment we could wish for. Exactly as we are doing here today.”

Finally, Professor Schultz was finished. Sporadic applause followed. Jack was not sure if it was the professor’s performance or the fact that it was over that people were most pleased about.

The Colonel walked up behind the desk again.

-“Now I’d like to tell you a bit about what we know about our destination.” He cleared his throat.

-“New Earth One is a kind of working title, which we will use until further notice. The planet was discovered over twenty years ago but until six years ago, we could just look at it. Thanks to our technological development we were suddenly able to visit it, and that is what we are in the process of doing now.

In the last three years we have had four satellites in orbit around the planet. They have listened to all radio communication that takes place on the surface and measured virtually everything that can be measured.

Originally it was our plan to land an automatic system with landing module, vehicles and analysis equipment. However, our satellites discovered that intelligent life exists on the planet. Further analysis revealed that it is a fully-fledged civilisation: buildings, motorised transport, and infrastructure. In fact, everything that characterises a functioning world with executive administration.

The plan to land with automatons was immediately relinquished. We must meet intelligent beings as ambassadors for our world. A machine cannot handle this task.

Hence this manned mission.

The satellites continued with their work, and everything that has been sent in their radio systems has been recorded and sent back to Earth for analysis.

This means that we have a complete version of their language, which, with the help of the ImplanTran system, we can transfer directly to our brains’ speech centres. This you can expect to have done within the next forty-eight hours. The members of the crew who belong to the armed forces have already had this update done. As you know, it means that we can speak and understand the native language directly. The downside is that we will not be able to understand and speak our own language any more.

This will be changed back during our return trip, but if you want to send one last message home before, do it now.

In addition, the satellites collected all kinds of geographical data about the planet.

That is how we know today that the planet is about as big as Earth. It is almost completely covered by an ocean, with an average depth of 3.8km. The mainland consists of two islands located a few hundred miles apart. One is the size of Australia, the other is slightly smaller than the African continent.

In addition there are a small number of little islands, which are not occupied. We do not know why.

The average temperature is around 16° Celsius, and there are virtually no seasons because the axis is almost perpendicular to its orbital plane.

The two major islands are inhabited, obviously by beings who have what we call modern technology. From what we can understand from their radio communication, they have a society with machinery, and industrial and technological development. They have electricity and communicate with radio systems. We don’t know what they look like, because they do not use visual media, at least not in wireless form. We obviously can’t know what cables they have in the ground, since there has been no attempt at landing. That is what we’ll be doing the day after tomorrow, with consideration for international diplomatic rules. Yes, I am aware that we cannot know how diplomacy works in a culture that we practically know nothing about, but our linguistic experts have a pretty good idea of what the social conventions are like in general.

To land with an unmanned vessel would be perceived as an act of aggression, so our first contact will be person to person. So we have done what we can.

We will obviously take certain precautions to safeguard the safety of the crew, but it will be very discreet.”

-“Take us to your leader,” murmured Jack to Boris.

-“Our task is to study the planet from every point of view. What is the climate like? What are the inhabitants like? How do their social rules work? What is there in the soil? Anything and everything. Just bear in mind that, having conducted scientific studies for centuries, we still don’t know everything about our own planet.

George Bridgestone, our geologist, will be in charge of the fundamental studies on seismological activity, soil layers, and the evaluation and extent of geological periods. We must find out, for example, whether there have been ice ages and, if so, how often. The frequency of volcanic eruptions etc.

Dan Harris, our biologist, will explore the fauna. Its structure, immune defence, development and so forth.

As we all know, Jack Lee is our psychologist and anthropologist. He will decode social contexts, their society’s modus operandi and the psychology of the inhabitants as a whole. Their interrelationships, types of family, crisis management and everything associated with it.

Boris Stroginjev, data expert. He will clarify how data communication takes place, how much computers are used in various areas, and the dependency of the inhabitants on the power of data. This includes whether everyone has access to computers or whether it is a rarity. This alone will tell us a great deal about their level in relation to us.”

The Colonel continued listing the members of staff and their areas of responsibility. Finally, he said:

-“Before I give the floor to Dan Harris, are there any questions?”

Though everyone had asked his questions at previous briefings, there was still a single one. Sam Woods, a laboratory technician specialising in immune systems and a pocket psychologist, cleared his throat.

-“Have we absolutely no idea what the inhabitants look like? I mean, despite everything, we have constantly updated information about New Earth One. Has nothing come up that indicates just something or other? It would be great just to have a clue about what we can expect.”

-“That’s a very good question,” replied the Colonel. “Unfortunately the answer is no. We have good reason to believe that they may be anthropoids. In other words, two arms, two legs and one head. Unfortunately, this somewhat stereotypical description doesn’t tell us very much. But experience from our own planet tells us that opposite thumbs and the ability to walk on two legs, thus freeing the hands for manipulation of their surroundings, constitute a condition for the development of technology. In that respect, now you all know as much as I do.”

There were no more questions. Now it was the turn of Dan Harris, the biologist.

-“So it’s just around the corner. It is no surprise that the inhabitants on New Earth One have a different language than ours. And it is – it would have been – the greatest impediment to our mission. It is incredibly difficult to observe the common rules of courtesy and diplomacy if you do not understand what each other is saying.

Fortunately, we have developed a system that is capable of interpreting different languages. It works in exactly the same way as when a person is put together with lot of others who speak an entirely different language. Analysis of words and phrases, calculation of context, assessment of possibilities of meaning, prediction of the significance of a second sentence and, finally, correction of the context based on the result of the prediction. By its very nature, a computer can simply do this a thousand times faster. The problem is not getting machines to work quickly, the problem is getting them to understand what input they receive. A machine that can do this must pass the so-called Turing test. Until now, no one has succeeded in getting a machine to do this. But we have come really close, so today computers can pass what we call ‘Turing Lite’, I won’t bore you with technicalities, but in simple terms a ‘Turing Lite’ computer will react seriously to nonsense. A genuine Turing machine would call it rubbish. There are more details, but, in this context, they are uninteresting. The fact of the matter is that a Turing Lite machine will be able to perform a just about perfect translation of one language to another.

The other thing is that science today is able to manipulate our memory directly. These are things you have to be extremely careful about, because our memory is a very complex entity. To give you an example: A standard post box is rectangular and blue. Let’s say we change a person’s memory into believing it is spherical and orange. The next time he sees a post box, his reaction will be: ‘How strange! A rectangular, blue post box! They’re usually round and orange.’

It’s not just that. Every single recollection about seeing or using a post box will be codes with the colour blue and a rectangular object. At some point or another, the brain’s clean-up system will decide that these data must be wrong. It will result in complete amnesia, because these data in turn refer to other data, which are at risk of disqualification for the same reason. In the worst case scenario, a chain reaction could result in the deletion of the entire memory.

The good news is that the language centre is, so to speak, a collection of labels with the description of all things and concepts. Changing this is virtually risk free. If a person has a label changed from ‘post box’ to a nonsense word such as ‘bopnip’, it won’t conflict with anything. The next time he sees a post box, he’ll just think: ‘Here’s a bopnip.’ If he then suddenly finds himself in a country, where a post box actually is called ‘bopnip’, everyone will immediately understand what he’s saying! And that is precisely what we’re doing here.

Of course there’s much more to it than rules of grammar, idioms, jargon and so on, but here’s the main point.

We expect you to be given your implants today. Remember that you won’t be able to speak to one another, when some of you have been given the implant and others haven’t. That’s why you should all get them at the same time and as quickly as possible.”

The briefing was over. Boris and Jack trudged down to the bar in the middle of the ship. Boris fetched a couple of whiskeys and they sat at the far back of the room at their usual table.

Jack lit a cigarette.

-“So, Boris, when’s this language thing going to happen?”

-“Not now, anyway. I guess there’ll be lots of people queuing up, and it’ll take a bit of time anyway. Let us wait till the rush hour is over.”

Jack sipped his drink.

-“It’s going to be exciting. The first time for mankind to meet another civilisation.”

-“Yeah! It’ll actually be exciting on many levels.”

-“What are you thinking about?”

-“Well, first there are the basic cultural differences. Do you shake hands? What does shaking or nodding your head mean? Yes and no? Or opposite? I our world you can raise your hand with the palm facing forward. Most people consider that as a sign of peace and friendship. What if that is interpreted here as ‘Stupid pigs. I’m going to kill you!’?”

-“Well, that’s where language comes in,” said Jack with a smile. “After all, it’s easier to say something than just standing and waving your hands around.”

-“Gestures are a natural part of our communication,” said Boris. “What will you do? Stand with your hands by your side and speak in a monotone?”

-“Well, it would be a start…”

-“Yeah, but what if that in itself is a provocative gesture?”

-“Oh, don’t be so negative! It’ll all work out.”

Jack and Boris had met for the first time when the ship left Earth two months ago.

When the star cruiser started to move out of the circuit and started the long voyage towards New Earth One, the Colonel had assembled all officers in the bar amidships. Everyone had been given a drink, a cigar and a folder with general information about the project. The Colonel had made a brief speech. Despite being the chief officer and the actual leader of the expedition, he had the wonderful talent of brevity. There was no end of leaders who never tired of hearing the sound of their own voices.

-“Friends,” he began. “We’re on our way! That’s the good news. The bad news is that this probably will be the dullest part of the trip. I hope you’ve brought a good book, ha ha.

Cheers! And let’s look forward to the arrival. It will be a milestone in the history of mankind!”

People raised their glasses and some lit their cigars. Shortly after, they trailed out into the corridors, down into the table tennis room or into their own cabins. Finally Jack and Boris were sitting alone, each at his own table.

Jack was sitting with his hand under his chin, trying half-heartedly to form a pattern of rings by moving his glass round on the table, when Boris came over with a couple of glasses of whiskey the size of his fist.

-“Jack Lee, right? Can I offer you a drink?”

-“Great, thanks! Sorry, I didn’t catch your name?”

-“Boris. Boris Stroginjev. Computer expert. I’ll be analysing the data infrastructure of the inhabitants. If they even have any.”

-“A pleasure to meet you, Boris. I am an anthropologist. I’ll be analysing their sociology and general interactive behaviour.”

-“Good luck! Sounds like a big job.”

-“No doubt about that. Even if we’re there for ages, I’ll still only be scratching the surface. But if the mission is a success, there will be probably more. It wouldn’t surprise me if it led to the creation of some actual subjects – ‘NewEarthOne-ology’, he, he.”

-“Dostoyevsky! You’re funny!”

-“Dostoyevsky?”

-“I’m Russian,” explained Boris proudly. “It was a nation of strong men, who weren’t willingly subdued. The Russian language is dead like so many others, but my grandma taught me a few phrases. ‘Dostoyevsky’ is a swear word – as far as I know! My grandma didn’t swear very often. But, whenever she did, that was the word she used.”

Both Jack and Boris were fond of whiskey and beer, and because Jack was also interested in technology, the two began to hang out together. Boris was a jolly sort of chap, and Jack appreciated his company. Boris always had a computer with him wherever he went, so he could fiddle around with intricate programmatic experiments.

The large TV above the bar was on, showing images of the hall where the landing modules were situated. A voice announced that to cut down on waiting time, they should all count on landing in 41 hours.

A strip at the top of the image counted down every second: 41:12:39, 41:12:38, 41:12:37.

There was a forklift truck on the screen, transporting some sort of object into a container.

The voice returned, explaining:

-“The landing modules are really just big boxes fitted with conventional reaction motors. Upon landing, they will be assembled to form a residential area, where we will be based while we get to know the place.

We will establish a perimeter, which we will remain within. The inhabitants of New Earth One will hopefully give us permission to remain here.”

Boris and Jack headed for the bar and planted themselves on a couple of bar stools.

Boris ordered a couple more drinks and they sat in silence, watching the preparations.

Over the bar was a sign with the text:

We come in peace to the new world. With the Bible in one hand and a tool in the other.

Jack sighed.

-“It’s a mystery to me how superstition continues to exist.”

-“You say that every time we see that sign.”

-“It doesn’t make it less of a mystery.”

-“And you’re supposed to be a psychologist. People need explanations. And people need help. As children we can always turn to our mother or father. Whom do we turn to as adults?”

-“Of course, you’re right. But still! There is no evidence of the existence of some omnipotent entity. People are obsessed with praying to God, Jehovah, Allah and heaven knows who else, but nothing ever happens. But still they go on. And when at last something happens, which can be precisely explained on the basis of statistical coincidences, their deity gets all the credit for it and they say it’s proof!”

-“Yes, but it’s reasonable enough. If the Lord actually did have a part to play, isn’t it stupid to scorn his help? Saying thank you doesn’t cost anything. So why not?”

-“You might be right.” Jack knocked back his drink and ordered another. “If it was only a question of gods. But people insist on believing in everything else: crystal healing, homeopathy, you name it. People still flock to a woman who looks into a crystal ball and claims that she can get in touch with deceased spouses, mothers, uncles and aunts. Loads of people sit down faithfully every day and meditate on their ‘chakra’, believing that there are mystical energies swirling round everywhere inside and outside the body, even though these energies can be neither measured nor seen. There are still people who quite literally believe that the Earth is flat, for heaven’s sake!”

Jack looked up at the screen where the rank and file soldiers were about to unload boxes of all kinds of stuff into several containers.

He lit a cigarette and blew smoke up to the extractor system.

-“Damn it, Boris. Five hundred years ago, when people knew nothing about nuclear physics, or bacteria, or other things that could not be seen with the naked eye, then I can understand it. If someone started saying, ‘All that God stuff, it doesn’t hold water. I wonder if nature was just there and started functioning?’ Then any priest could simply point up at the sun and say, ‘Well, try explaining that!’ A fire which burns for all eternity cannot be explained. And the Sun must always have been there. It was there when my father lived, and it was there when his father lived, and so on and so forth.

But now that science has unearthed one area after another and explained the modus operandi of everything, you’d think it was time for people to wake up.”

-“It isn’t as easy as that, Jack.”

-“Apparently not.”

-“Jack, did you love your parents?”

-“Of course.”

-“Do you miss them?”

-“Yes, of course.”

-“Good. If I could now give you proof that your parents in fact had been two perfect robots, constructed to resemble and behave like humans, and programmed to take care of children, would you then in one fell swoop lose all love for them? Would you snap your fingers and say, ‘Well, there’s a turn up for the book! Is that how things are? Well, then I don’t miss them anymore. No problem!’?”

-“Er…!”

-“Exactly!”

Boris ordered another round.

Time passed. The preparations progressed. Glasses were emptied and the ashtray filled.

Finally more people joined them in the room and people sat, idly flicking through magazines, watching the screen or chatting to alleviate the waiting time. There had been a certain business-like atmosphere during the trip, especially because it was no secret that the operation was under military jurisdiction, but now at the last moment there was an air of excitement.

The background chatter became more and more incomprehensible, as those who had been given their language implants appeared. They could only talk to one another. It was utter gibberish to the others.

-“Boris. Jack!” Someone shouted across the tables. Sam Woods made his way through the room to the bar.

Jack looked up.

-“Bloody hell,” he mumbled to Boris. “I can’t keep that pocket philosopher away!”

-“What’s the matter?”

-“It only takes one glass of something or other and he gets obsessed with discussing the issue of public decency based on his own homespun ideas of psychology. It’s like discussing astronomy with someone who believes the Earth is flat.”

-“Fascinating. Well, I’ll get rid of him for you. Just hold your tongue!”

Sam Woods came over and stood next to Boris.

-“Jack, old boy! Are you ready to get the answer to our bet?”

Boris smiled to Sam and said warmly:

-“Wazum pokrja arkunera tutim!”

Sam Woods looked embarrassed.

-“Well, damn. Have you already been given the language? Okay, speak to you later.”

-“Gaganuti?” asked Boris.

-“Er, yes, we can deal with that later!”

Sam waved and moved on.

Jack looked down at the bar to hide his smile.

-“What the hell did you say?” he whispered.

-“I’ve no idea,” replied Boris. “I just made it up.”

-“All we need now is to discover that you happen to have mastered the local language. Then one of the others comes up and asks why you’re insulting his mother.”

-“Probably. What is the issue of public decency?”

-“It’s an old story. As you know, the last thing people take off is their trousers. When the weather turns hot, people wear short sleeves and shorts, then later they remove their sweaters, socks, vests and so on. The last thing they take off is their trousers. Why? A sense of decency. But we all know that inside those trousers is an organ which can be used both for procreation and the excretion of waste products. So the question is, if we, say, now used our fingers for procreation, would we still hide our pricks in our trousers, or would we wear gloves all the time? Or both?”

-“And what’s the answer?”

-“There is no answer. You can philosophise from here to kingdom come without finding an answer. And anyway, who cares?”

-“In certain contexts, might it not be important?”

-“Okay, in extreme cases. For example, if a person has a morbid fear of undressing at the swimming pool, it might be interesting to discover whether it’s a feeling of being unclean or vulnerability that is the real reason. But the treatment would be roughly the same, whatever the cause.”

-“Hm. And what was the bet about?”

-“The prat persuaded me to take a bet on the appearance of the locals.”

-“What did you bet on?”

-“I believe that the inhabitants must resemble us to a T. The tiniest physiological differences, which exist between homo sapiens and his closest relative in the animal world, are so minimal that only individuals with pretty much the same construction as ourselves could have fitted in the niche, which gave us the reason for developing technology and the ability to do it.”

-“And what does he think?”

-“That the Colonel’s description is much more correct. Two arms, two legs and a head. Hands with fingers, which can manipulate their surroundings with precision. Eyes that can see clearly, and ears that can hear. Whether they are three yards tall, or green, or have cat’s eyes or four fingers is irrelevant. With apes on Earth it is the size of their brains, which determines that they cannot develop their environment more than they have done. If you could transplant a human brain into an ape’s body, that brain would still be able to operate machines and read books with the ape’s sensory apparatus.”

-“What did you bet?”

-“A beer!”

-“Ok, so you won’t be ruined if you lose, old boy!”

Jack downed the rest of his drink.

-“So shall we go to our language course now?” he asked.

Boris looked down at his screen, as he pressed buttons.

-“You go, I just need to finish something. You know we can’t read any more, once we’ve been given the language, don’t you?”

-“I did hear something about that…”

-“So before I deactivate myself, I just need to put the finishing touches to this job. But you go ahead. We’ll talk later.”

Jack left the bar, where everybody was now talking in “new earth”. He scaled the stairs to the laboratories, where the implantation was being performed. Now there was not a single person to be seen. For a moment he could not remember his way around up there, but then he noticed a door, where two soldiers were sitting at a desk. On the desk was a cardboard sign with the words: “LANGUAGE UPDATE”.

He recognised one of the soldiers: Corporal Jim Hansson, a pleasant guy who went about his work very conscientiously.

-“Jimmy!” he said. “Well, I’m here to get a new language. Is that something you can take care of?”

-“Jack,” said Jim. “Always the joker! First you need to take this test?” Jim held a ballpoint pen in front of his eyes.

-“Just focus on this pen for a moment, Jack.”

The ballpoint pen moved back and forth and Jack followed it with his eyes to the best of his ability.

Jim replaced the pen in his breast pocket.

-“Jack, you’ll have to come back later.”

-“Why? There’s no one in there. I can go right in!”

-“That’s not the issue. The intervention is a direct manipulation of the brain’s memory centre. There must be no conditions to weaken the learning process.”

-“But the Colonel ordered…”

-“That may very well be. But his orders cannot change the medical world. If the implant cannot be done safely, the orders of a Captain or a Colonel count for nothing.”

-“Jim, have I ever pulled my military rank on you? Or anyone else?”

-“No, Jack. And that wasn’t my intention.”

-“So why can’t I go in now?”

Jim sighed.

-“For heaven’s sake, Jack. Come back when you’re sober!”

Chapter 2

Seven Months Earlier

-“Have you heard of KP-288U,” asked Uncle Wilhelm one day.

-“Yes,” said Jack. “I’ve heard of nothing else for the past three weeks. Why?”

KP-288U had been in the news for weeks, a little planet, many light years from Earth, which had almost precisely the same size and distance from the Sun as the Earth. A planet that was particularly interesting from a human point of view.

-“It is going to be explored,” said Uncle Wilhelm, rubbing his hands. “They’ll soon be sending an expedition.”

-“Yes, it’ll be interesting,” said Jack. Up until now they had only found small stones, which were either ice cold or as hot as a baker’s oven. Or gas planets the size of Jupiter, which nothing could live on. KP-288U – or ‘New Earth One’ as it was also known – was the first planet to be discovered that invited human habitation.

-“But,” said Uncle Wilhelm, “there’s been a very interesting discovery! Can you guess what?”

-“It’s made of solid gold?”

-“Ha, ha, very funny. No. It is populated!”

-“Populated? By who?” asked Jack, surprised.

-“You see, they don’t know. But the space probes orbiting it right now have sent data back that shows us that there’s an enormous amount of active radio traffic. Speech in other words! People up there speak a language unknown to us.”

Jack was speechless.

-“And,” continued Uncle Wilhelm, “they’re not a bunch of cavedwellers or Neanderthals. The inhabitants clearly have technology, since they can transmit over the radio network.”

Uncle Wilhelm was clearly amused at Jack’s reaction.

-“Just think of it. An alien civilisation! What d’you say to that?”

-“It’s – it’s fantastic!” said Jack. “Why haven’t they said anything about it in the news?”

-“It’s all very hush-hush. They don’t want to frighten the people. Many years ago there was a radio show that pretended that the Earth was being visited by beings from another planet. Panic broke out! They’ve never done it again!”

-“How do you know about it?”

-“A good friend of mine. Colonel Ian Glasston. He’ll be leading the expedition. And guess what? He needs an anthropologist. Do you think that’s something you could help out with?”

-“Aha. Well, I’ll ask my old student friends if one of them might be interested.”

-“Hello, Jack! I’m asking you. Now. Do you want to go?” Uncle Wilhelm looked him straight in the eye.

Jack thought how most people would give their right arm for such an opportunity. But he was not excited.

-“I really don’t know, uncle,” he replied, somewhat demonstratively taking a slug of his whiskey and lighting another cigarette. “I don’t think I can match the desired profile.”

Uncle Wilhelm chuckled:

-“On the contrary. I think you’ll be surprised. Just do me a favour. Go and have a chat with Colonel Glasston. Tomorrow. Let me hear what you decide.”

Colonel Ian Glasston was a tall, upright man. He had short hair and wore a uniform as if he had never worn anything else.

-“Come on in, Jack,” he said warmly. “And thanks for coming.”

-“My pleasure, Colonel,” replied Jack.

-“Good. Your uncle says you’d be perfect for our little expedition. We need an anthropologist, and you are one. It sounds pretty promising. Would you like to take part?”

-“I’d like to, but I don’t think I’d fit in,” answered Jack. “Isn’t it a military operation?”

-“Yes. Administratively speaking, a voyage like this is always subject to military control. It is a pure formality, because the armed forces have certain authority, which civilians, of course, do not. For example, one might need to defend oneself against hostile acts. That’s where any civil expedition would run into problems.”

-“And I don’t think I’d make a good soldier,” replied Jack.

The Colonel laughed.

-“But you wouldn’t need to be a soldier, Jack. All the scientists on the expedition are civilians who have been granted the military rank of Captain solely for administrative purposes. No one expects military skills from you, or participation in any military activity. That’s quite out of the question.”

-“Nevertheless, I’m not particularly attracted to being locked up in a little metal tub for weeks. I’m sure there are also certain rules for what people can and can’t do. By the way, do you mind if I smoke?”

This was meant as a demonstration of what Jack imagined could help make him unsuitable for the expedition. There were probably a hundred things you were not allowed to do on a trip like this.

But the Colonel looked amused.

-“By all means, Jack. While we’re at it, I think I’ll have a cigar!”

The Colonel pulled a cigar out of the drawer and lit it with great relish.

-“Isn’t that a habit you have to refrain from the moment the expedition starts?”

-“Jack, we’re not talking the last Millennium. We don’t have to sit next to each other in a room the size of a toilet. The spaceship is more or less a town. Everyone has their own cabin. There’s living room, a canteen – even a cinema. Progress in terms of engines for spaceships have taken enormous strides in the last decade. We just haven’t had anywhere to go. But now we have.”

-“I need to think about it,” said Jack.

-“Very well,” said the Colonel and placed two glasses on the desk between them. He filled them both with whiskey.

-“While you’re thinking, do you fancy a drink?”

That evening, Jack phoned his uncle.

-“Hello, uncle,” he said cheerfully. “You’re speaking to the new anthropologist on the New Earth One expedition!”

Chapter 3

Waiting Time

Jack sat at their usual table and looked down into his coffee cup dejectedly. Boris sat opposite him, also with a cup of coffee. His laptop was closed.

-“Well, life is no walk in the park,” said Jack.

Boris took a sip of his coffee.

-“How did you discover you wanted to be a psychologist?”

-“Long story,” said Jack.

-“We have enough time. Say something, before I go crazy.”

-“Boris, other people’s life stories are dead meat!”

-“Said the psychologist, whose job is all about listening to other people’s life stories…”

-“That’s a bit of a simplification.”

-“There must be something that makes a misanthrope like you curious about what goes on in other people’s heads?”

-“All right, so listen! But I can’t guarantee it’ll be particularly entertaining.”

-“Pour out your heart, brother!”

After my parents were dead, my uncle came and took over the shop. There was no one else and I was sixteen years old. I was stuck with a house and money from some life insurance policies, and I had no idea what I should do. I was also really on the ropes, because my whole existence had been turned upside down.

I knew my uncle really well and really liked the old piss pot. Mum and Dad often talked about how he probably enjoyed more than his fair share of the drinks cabinet, but he was a good guy. ‘Rich people just don’t get as ill as poor people,’ said my mother. For reasons that had fizzled out in distant anecdotes, he was rolling in money. Apparently at one time he had had a finger in a load of different businesses, but now he was retired.

Once I had asked him why he drank as much as he did.

-“My boy,” he answered. “There’s an old Irish proverb that says: What butter and whiskey cannot cure is incurable! And when you don’t like butter, then you have to make do with whiskey!”

-“But you aren’t ill, are you, uncle?”

-“No. But all doctors agree that prevention is better than cure! So I go for prevention.”

-“But you’re not Irish!”

-“No. But I’m not religious either! But I can still live according to Jesus’ message about behaving decently towards your fellow men, can’t I? And even though I’m not Irish, I can still follow their advice!”

-“Who’s Jesus?”

Uncle Wilhelm sighed.

When I got older, I understood more clearly my uncle’s sense of humour.

So in came Uncle Bill and said that now he had to take over for a while, dealing with all the practical things I couldn’t suddenly be expected to deal with.

So I moved into his place.

Uncle Wilhelm has a big house in California, so he said I should just take over one of the rooms.

So I lived there for a while. In the beginning, he thought I was a bit depressed, so he said I could do with some ‘medicine’. He gave me a couple of glasses of whiskey until I fell asleep. When I woke up, he asked me if I was in a better mood now. As long as I answered ‘no’, he gave me a few glasses more, until I fell asleep again.

After a week or so, I could no longer stand the sight of whiskey or of Uncle Bill, so I started to say that I was feeling better now and thank you for the treatment.

Anyway, life went on. I had to continue at school, and uncle said that money was means, not an end. So he supplied me with loads of money. He said that lack of money is an obstacle, and there are already far too many obstacles in the world.

He knew me too well, and he knew that I wouldn’t idly waste my time and fritter money away. In fact, I was keen to finish my education and find out what I could do afterwards.

It was all very restrained really.

I had already become interested in girls a few years before, but introverted people like me are not the world’s biggest pussy magnets. That began to change, when word got around that that Jack chap had suddenly acquired more money than average. So, little by little, they started to turn up.

I am not stupid, and I could see the connection all too well. And they did not exactly hide it. But I made the best of it, as any sixteen-year-old would have done. And they were sweet enough. It was great to wake up next to a hot girl’s body, and think about the night before.

But the relationships always stopped pretty quickly again. It did not take long before the girls started to talk a little bit about their dreams and ideas for the future. These tended to involve big houses with servants, no work, travelling around the world and throwing amazing parties for all their friends.

When they realised that my dreams for the future involved finding a job and sitting at home in the evening reading a book, their interest gradually faded.

It was actually a bit depressing. It was my money they loved. Not me. The first few times I was a little disheartened, but my uncle told me that this was just human nature.

-“You’ll find the right girl one day,” he said. “Just wait.”

So I waited. Meanwhile I finished my education. One day we had to go on a field trip to another state to some exhibition – something about modern physics. It was quite fascinating, and I actually met a nice girl there. No one there knew that I had a rich uncle to support me, and it was not something I talked about. So when she started talking to me, I just told her that I was a student who was on a field trip. That was partly also because to start with I was not particularly interested in her, so I thought if I came over as dull, she would find someone else to glue herself to.

But gradually I discovered that she was actually really nice and attractive. She was very interested in physics, and we ended up sitting and talking late into the night. She was exciting and fun, and got on really well together.

In the end, we agreed to meet once a week, when I could afford to come down and visit her. For some reason or other, I did not mention my financial freedom. Perhaps it was the thought that here was the chance to see whether it was really me she was interested in and not my money.

We started to get really attached to one another. We were boyfriend and girlfriend. For once it felt right. I was happy again and felt good about myself. In the evening when we lay in bed talking about us, the future and everything, it seemed so safe and cosy. I thought several times about telling her that I actually had enough money for both of us, but deep down I was afraid of destroying everything.

This meant that I was gradually painting myself into a corner. The longer the time that passed, the more strange it would be that I had not said something a long time ago. The excuse that I was afraid she would only want me for my money was in fact a declaration of no confidence. And the longer the time that passed, the more difficult it became, and the more difficult it was, the more I procrastinated.

But as time went on, the more convinced I was that I had found the right girl for me. I felt we had such a good time together, and the more we talked with each other and the more we found out what we had in common, the more certain I was that we would be together the rest of our lives.

She left me after six months.

I will spare you the details, but the long and the short of it is that another boy had come in from the side-lines and he was evidently more interesting. Now she was so confused and needed a little time to think everything through and discover whether it should be him or me.

She had already made the choice, but I could not know that at the time. She did not know either, so I do not blame her for it.

Once again my uncle provided some input. I could not keep any secrets from him.

-“Jack, my boy, now you are facing a lifetime challenge. If you want to do yourself a favour, follow my advice. I guarantee you will never get this chance again!”

-“And what is your advice, oh god of wisdom?”

-“Drop all contact with her. Now!”

-“Too late. I called her yesterday and asked if she really meant it seriously.”

-“What’s done is done. Jack, if you do not contact her in any way, she will either come back or flee! If you start calling or writing or sending small gifts, she will certainly flee! Listen to me. Jack, I know it sounds impossible. It will be probably the hardest thing you are ever going to do, but it is the only move that has a chance of working. Trust me on this one.”

I did not follow his advice.

I kind of knew that my uncle was right. He was certainly right about one thing. It was just about impossible. I called her once a day, I asked what had gone wrong, and I suggested that we tried everything possible. The only thing I did not mention was money. Paradoxically, I thought it would make the situation worse, and that was the last thing I needed.

Of course, my uncle was right. When I phoned her, she became more and more frosty and dismissive. So of course that did not help and I had gradually started drinking more and more. I had passed my exams and now it was the summer holidays, where I really had to think about higher education. Instead I got well and truly plastered. Not even that helped very much, but I fell asleep. And it felt better sleeping than being awake.

I think a week or two had passed since the last time I had phoned her. I had finally abandoned everything.

But then she phoned me!

Yes, of course it had been a mistake. The other boy had turned out to be a prat, and she could see that she had blown it. She would love it if we could give it another go. Would I come down and visit her?

I was totally flabbergasted. I managed to say the right thing and keep any ironic comments to myself. I travelled down to see her that same day and she was just as sweet and lovely as she always was.

I did not ask much about what had happened, and she gave me only a cursory explanation that he had apparently won over several girls with his sweet talk. Once she found that out, she realised how phoney his behaviour had been and how genuine I was.

Hurray hurray, I was happy again. Almost.

We resumed our routine with me visiting every week and staying the weekend. I tried to make it all like it was before, but there was something missing.

In the past she had talked about wanting a small house with a small garden where our children could run and play. Now she had started talking about how wonderful it would be to have a big house. Before, the holidays we had envisaged were a week on a beach in Europe. Now it was all cruises in the Mediterranean. Occasionally this would be followed by questions such as: “Don’t you think we can afford it?”

I had never held back from giving her small gifts, but she used to say that I really should not and stuff like that. Now she had started to stop in front of shops with fancier, more expensive merchandise.

When I talked about education, she sounded a bit more indifferent. Now she thought there was a lot more to life than working all the time.

It took a while before it sank in properly, but suddenly it hit me. In some way or other, she had found out that I was a money tree!

After all, it was no secret. I had just never mentioned it. And she talked to friends. One of them probably knew someone who knew someone, and she or he had let slip that she was about to let the golden cockerel fly away.

But then I started to speculate. There were two options. Play the role, tell her that I was also quite well off, and enjoy her company the rest of our days. Or drop it.

I became more and more depressed. In the past, she and I had agreed on many things because she actually agreed with me. Now it felt as if she concurred with me in everything – even if I had claimed that the Earth was flat and the moon made of green cheese. The bottom line, she was not mine anymore. Previously I was a partner, a boyfriend, a lover and a friend. Now I was an essential accessory for a box of money.

I began to call off my visits. First one and then more and more. I came up with stupid excuses about my uncle needed help with various practical things. The reality was I was helping him empty his drinks cabinet. The fact of the matter was that, every time I was at her place, I was reminded of what she had been and what she was not now. As if the girl I had loved so much had been replaced by an inadequate substitute. And I really missed the girl she had once been. I got depressed at the thought of visiting her, and I was even more depressed when I went home.

I was simply tired of it. Of the sense of loss, which never went away.

My uncle understood me perfectly. I spent hours sitting and drinking his whiskey and listening to his stories. He knew a hell of lot, so you never got bored in his company. He could talk in depth about politics and biology and physics for hours, and he could make it interesting! The man should have been a teacher.

It was my uncle who suggested I should study psychology.

The communication was certainly not just one-way. All my thoughts and self-analysis about this problem I had got saddled with I had not kept to myself. The whole incident with the girl had fizzled out. She had gradually given up. I had not heard from her for two months. So she understood that, for me, the party was over. So one day Uncle Bill said to me:

-“Jack, it seems to me that you have to move on!”

-“What do you mean?”

-“Get on with your life, Jack. Listen. You’re an intelligent young man, but intelligence without knowledge is like a computer without data. I like you, Jack, but I will not sit here and drink away the rest of my days with an uneducated man.”

He was being friendly. I have never heard a disdainful or condescending word from my uncle’s mouth.

I asked him what he would suggest. He said there was always a need for physics and chemistry, but, in his opinion, psychology was the way to go.

I was one big question mark. I had never expressed any interest in psychology.

-“Ah. But that doesn’t mean you do not have a talent for it,” he replied. “Everything you’ve told me in the last few months is proof that you actually have a sense of what’s going on inside people’s heads. You talk about it as if it was common knowledge, and yet you have theories and make conclusions, which very few ordinary people would never arrive at.”

It was certainly true enough. My uncle thought I should start an education as a psychologist, so I did. He got hold of a university, had them draw up a schedule, and so I started.

It turned out to be extremely fascinating. It is unbelievable how much we humans go around, doing and thinking and believing this or that, whereas in fact the causes are quite different than those we automatically assume.

-“The thing is, it actually is an incredibly interesting area,” continued Jack. “What people actually know and what they go around believing, and how they act as a result, bristles in all directions. The conviction of an individual human being often has nothing to do with how they act. It defies logic. My father taught me many things and, when I was older, I talked a lot to him about scientific topics. We often talked, if one of us had read an article that revealed something or other.”

Jack looked up at the ceiling.

-“I remembered we had talked about lapses of memory. A very wellknown phenomenon. You remember something or other that happened ten or twenty years ago. You remember it vividly. And yet, when in some way or another you revisit the event, it seems like everything is wrong. People are wearing different clothes, the place looks completely different or you were in fact in the company of completely different people. My father told me about memory lapses. One day I said that I remembered something which did not fit.

Excellent. We talked about it and another aspect of the mysteries of life was revealed to me.

But another time, my father was puzzled about something, which he did not believe could be right. When I referred to our discussion about memory lapses, he shook his head and said: “No. This isn’t just a memory lapse. I can actually remember this, vividly!”

And that is not all. People understand perfectly that if you have problems with your teeth or shoulder or back, the pain may feel like you have a headache. People nod and agree and even understand the mechanics behind it. Until the day they get a headache. No, of course it’s not my back or my teeth. I can feel that it’s my head that hurts, right?”

-“But surely all people aren’t like that?” asked Boris. “I mean, selfdenying?”

-“Actually everyone is. Of course it is less so for most people, otherwise they couldn’t lead a normal life. Even a hard-core atheist is a bit happy, if he finds a four-leaf clover. If you ask him, of course he’ll say that there’s nothing luckier about a four-leaf clover than a three-leaf or five-leaf clover.