Ump had been staring at the large panoramic display showing the First Project for an hour. It was night on the planet, but the glow of the local star had already sent its first blinding rays over the edge of the dark disk. There was very little time left before landing on the only natural satellite of the First, and Ump felt a sense of relief, like a traveler spotting the station as the train approached, when he saw a large black shadow that obscured the view of the dawn. The satellite always faced the First with one side, so there was no better place for an observation base than the far side away from the planet.
That’s how it was planned from the very beginning. For the First Project to develop in the most predictable manner, it was meant to have a massive satellite as a partner. A kind of universal counterbalance, protecting the planet from potential orbital disturbances.
The ocean tides provided by the satellite of the First Project also came in handy. Thanks to them, life emerged on the planet a good billion years earlier. Ump was always amazed by the talent of the engineers who created the First Project. They even adjusted the planet’s rotation speed around the star so that the length of the year matched the standard.
After the First Project, there were others, but the First was so successful that some time later, its construction concept was adopted as a basis. The most important achievement of the First Project was its “automatic” safety. The structure on which life was built was too fragile to survive in the conditions of space and harsh radiation; it did not restore functionality after a hyper-jump, could not withstand significant fluctuations in the environment, and did not allow living beings to communicate with each other. Even the ability to receive electromagnetic waves was fundamentally limited to a very narrow range, close to thermal. The rest of the spectrum was inaccessible to it. So even the thought of any broadband communication, let alone coded signal separation, was out of the question.
Intelligence could not have emerged fundamentally; living organisms would not have been able to infect surrounding star systems, and the inherent fragility and dependence on the precise tuning of a large number of parameters were such that bioengineers joked that if intelligence were to arise on a planet, it would conclude that the surrounding world was created for its benefit. to exist Текст для перевода: ..
Yes. Until recently, the very idea of intelligent life existing without the possibility of effective communication between individuals seemed absurd. However, Ump has now landed on the moon of the First Project simply because intelligence was able to emerge.
Ump didn’t like these inspection flights. To figure things out, he always had to spend several years surrounded by robots, aging several years, feeling lonely for years, while only seconds passed at the Center. The thought that he would die before his loved ones was a bitter pill to swallow. This time, his forced aging was somewhat softened by the fact that he wasn’t alone. A whole delegation had arrived with him from the Center. Along with Ump, two robotics engineers—Mau and Pet—were flying, as well as a versatile technician named Zef. When a whole team was sent so far from the Center, it was already an extraordinary event.
Of course! When the scientists at the Center started experimenting with artificial life, the Supreme Assembly, made up almost entirely of conformists and reactionaries, banned even the slightest possibility of research findings leaving the test tubes. Laws were quickly drafted, based on “high moral principles,” prohibiting experiments on the development of artificial life, or as it came to be called, i-life, and preventing the emergence of intelligent life forms from it.
And here, the laws of physics came to the aid of scientists. At the edge of the Galaxy, unlike at the Center, time flowed much faster due to the effect of “ gravitational well “, where the Center was located. This promised several significant advantages: Far from the Center, it was possible to create life forms that would not be viable in the bustling, galaxy-active Center. The experiments with i-life could be conducted in “real time” without machine extrapolations — you could seed a planet and visit it once a year according to the Center’s time, while up to 100 million years could pass there. Most importantly, projects could always be arranged in such a way that there would be a leading project, and the others could be adjusted proactively if any errors were discovered.
The First Project was called “First” because it was located almost at the very edge of the Galaxy, and it took a full four hyperspace jumps to reach it. Despite falling behind schedule due to a series of disasters—understandably, as the life forms were intentionally chosen to be fragile, and a large meteorite could easily sterilize the planet—it still led the way for a good 300 million years, allowing for the anticipation of any surprises on the other inhabited planets. Now, for the first time, the First Project was fulfilling its main function—it was introducing the Center to a rather critical surprise. After all, if it turned out that artificial life forms were indeed capable of forming intelligent structures, the Supreme Assembly would immediately impose a ban on all other projects based on “humane” considerations—arguing that it is very cruel to allow intelligence to exist in such constrained and grotesque conditions—blind, mute, and incapable of hyperspace jumps. Moreover, these life forms would not be suitable for consumption for ethical reasons anyway.
The team arriving at the First Project was already in a deadlock. If the presence of intelligence detected by the robots is confirmed, it will be illegal to use the First Project satellite as a “last resort,” meaning as a sterilizer. And if there is indeed no intelligence, then there is nothing to destroy. However, the lobby against artificial life already has a trump card. Even if the information from the robots is incorrect, public opinion could still sway towards the agricultural party. A victory for the agricultural party in the upcoming elections would put an end to all developments in the field of artificial life. After all, all artificial life projects are primarily aimed at producing food safely for the Center. The agricultural lobby cannot afford this, especially since it has already managed to ensure that the development of artificial life is prohibited within two hyper-jumps of the Center, and the public is so frightened by the very term “artificial life” that now every food package proudly displays the label “does not contain ALF” — artificial life forms. If it turns out that consumers might be eating canned goods made from intelligent life forms, it would be a complete failure of the project on all counts.
Zef pulled Ump away from his thoughts about global politics and his role in it. He announced that the ship had docked and the airlock was ready for the transition to the station. Ump immediately looked at what Zef was seeing, hoping to catch a glimpse of the airlock, but Zef was busy examining the fasteners on his jumpsuit. Suddenly, everyone around them started to shout. Some of the information was being communicated in the general ship code, while Ump heard some voices because one of his own had transmitted. keys to his colleagues, and they would reach out to him directly, asking for guidance or reporting on their actions. Ump did not look at his colleagues’ pictures, as he was busy packing his things.
A week has passed since we started working at the station. Data from the scouts, now managed by the operators, showed that life on Project One has entered a reasonable phase. We still need to understand how this became possible, as the same scouts indicated that the systems for transmitting electromagnetic waves were not developed in any of the evolved life forms, just as the model predicted. Reception systems for electromagnetic waves did exist, but again, within the predicted limitations. They were unable to communicate. Yet, the fact remained — they were communicating, even though they couldn’t really see each other and couldn’t hear each other at all.
This riddle might have remained unsolved if Mau, the operator of one of the robots, hadn’t dropped it near the settlement of the intelligent life forms. The accident was spectacular, with a dramatic explosion and the formation of a crater at the crash site. The robot was invisible to the life forms—it neither emitted, absorbed, nor reflected electromagnetic waves within the narrow range of their sensitivity. However, the representatives of the life forms clearly demonstrated a reaction to the robot’s fall. Some even approached the crash site, peering into the crater and exhibiting behavior that suggested they sensed a vigorous oxidation chemical reaction occurring in the plants closest to the robot’s remains. Not only did they see and feel something, but they also somehow managed to attract the attention of their fellow beings, who, abandoning their tools, rushed to the crater. It seemed they could see, hear, and communicate in some way, but how exactly remained a mystery.
It wasn’t clear until lunchtime when the same Mau asked Zeph, who was on duty in the galley that day, to tap the table with a spoon once more. After that, Mau transmitted the code of his tactile channels to everyone and asked Zeph to tap the table with the spoon again. Everyone felt the vibration from Mau’s impact of the spoon on the table. Mau’s thoughts were open, and everyone understood what he was thinking. It was obvious! They could hear the vibrations of matter—the waves that travel through substances.
Another week of work has yielded astonishing results. Yes, the form of communication was primitive; it utilized amplitude-frequency modulation of the oscillations of substances—gases, liquids, solids—and was used for transmitting analog signals that were completely unprotected from interference. Transmission was impossible in space. It did not provide for any means coding If someone sent information, everyone else received it—regardless of their desire. If two people were talking, everyone could hear them. Only the distance between the communicators served as a barrier to the global noise that would surround each individual. Moreover, remote settlements were unable to communicate with each other—although their signaling systems were similar, they were not sufficiently correlated. With such signaling, it was impossible to convey images or information from other senses. This type of signaling hindered the transmission of images, and the only way to reach an agreement became the use of abstract indicators, unique for each object and standardized for the entire community. This is communication. Hell. But the local intelligent life form thought otherwise and continued to develop vigorously.
“Are you saying,” Pet said, colleague Mau—also a robot operator—”that these beings are receptive to any signal that is transmitted to them?”
“That’s right,” Mau replied. Ump thought for a moment and then said on the open channel, “We need to figure out how to verify this.”
The next day, Mau and Pet invited Umpa to show him something very interesting. They refused to share any pictures or details, saying it would ruin the effect of the demonstration.
It turned out that by feeding the computers everything they knew about the local civilization at night and allowing them to gather more information using robots if necessary, they had acquired an interface that enabled them to transmit their signals into the signals of the local intelligentsia. If it weren’t for the local temporal accelerators, which helped engineers observe the First Project as if in “fast-forward,” the process would have taken a very long time. The speed of information transfer among the locals was thousands of times slower than what the engineers were used to when communicating with each other. The chosen method of information exchange by the local life forms physically could not provide high speeds and resistance to interference. Moreover, the transmission required some kind of material medium.
To transmit information, Mau and Pet resorted to a very original method. They learned to create a spherical plasma cloud in the planet’s atmosphere using a directed beam of a specially selected frequency. This cloud could vibrate in response to the modulation of the carrier beam, thereby transmitting information to the local inhabitants. The downside was that this cloud emitted strongly in the electromagnetic wave range detectable by the locals; however, it seemed that this did not bother them much.
The effect was astonishing. The local intelligences obeyed literally every thought transmitted by Mau and Pet. It turned out that Mau and Pet had discovered an incredibly simple and utterly absurd way to hack the locals’ communication system. This seemed fantastic and impossible to them, as they were used to the idea that they wouldn’t transmit or receive anything unless they had agreed on a common code. The idea of transmitting commands from the outside without the recipient’s permission had always seemed impossible and unimaginable. However, the phenomenon that Ump observed along with the roboticists was undeniable.
“Here, for example,” Mau continued his demonstration, “let’s take this individual and command him to do something that contradicts his biological nature. For instance,” and Mau was already transmitting information to the plasma sphere,
— Kill your own. son. !.
Ump saw the local man look at the plasma sphere hanging high above him, accepted the command, and went… Yes! He went to kill his son. The engineers silently watched as the local man took a knife, approached his son, led him to the mountain, raised his arm, and… Ump couldn’t take it anymore and transmitted:
— No need, I already know that you obey. Let the son live. It was just a test.
The Umpa signal caught the son’s attention; he saw his father, saw the knife, saw the plasma sphere, and they both began to bend and straighten, occasionally reaching their upper limbs toward the sphere. “Another glitch,” said Mau. They always do that after a communication session and sometimes before a session if they manage to do it before we start the transmission.
— Oh, do they do that when communicating with each other as well? — Ump asked, and immediately received a picture from Pet in response. They did make similar movements when communicating with each other, but without involving their upper limbs and with a smaller range of bending. Moreover, as a rule, they only made such movements no more than once a day for each member of the tribe. — We need to work on this some more, the engineers chorused, and the duty officer Zeph from the galley added that it was time for everyone to have a snack.
During dinner, the four of them discussed and processed the information they had received. There was intelligence on the planet, and it couldn’t be destroyed. On the other hand, following them, the life agency employees would arrive here for an inspection, and they would see a powerful civilization. The computers helpfully extrapolated that even with such a limited means of information exchange, 5,000 to 10,000 years of local time would be enough to invent information exchange systems similar to those in the Center, and then their civilization would rapidly develop into something comparable to the culture of the Center. Yes, for the Center, it would be a moment, as time on the periphery flows significantly faster.
The advanced digitization of life is not at all what was hoped for as a result of a purely food-related project. In the second project and beyond, engineers will surely come up with a “patch” that excludes reason for good this time. Ump has already speculated on the possibility of mechanisms for biologically limiting brain volume growth.
For a while, Mau was silent. Ump asked him why he had closed himself off. Mau said he had an idea that he was still working through and would share with the others soon. A second later, Mau opened up. He showed everyone the beautiful jungles of the Center, presenting a series of images that brought the attendees back to the history of their home planet. Once, their planet was on the brink of ecological disaster, and all efforts to preserve the environment were welcomed by the public. Initially, they achieved significant results in the fight against wildfires. They had completely ceased, and the forests began to expand more and more. Until a period came when wildfires unexpectedly destroyed three-quarters of all forests in just ten years.
This came as a complete surprise to environmental organizations and the public as a whole. They began to look into the causes of the situation and found that the fight against forest fires had led to the accumulation of deadwood and dry branches in the forests. The forests had effectively been stockpiling fuel for a future mega-fire. In the past, when fires were not actively fought, small fires would consume the dry wood, preventing the flames from spreading to living trees. Now, however, there was a whole pile of fuel lying under each tree, ready to ignite at any moment.
Realizing this, the foresters immediately stopped actively fighting the fires and instead introduced the practice of controlled burns. The forests came back to life once again.
— Well then, — Zeph said, followed by everyone else.
“Well,” replied Mau, “what we see now is that the local intelligent beings, having rid themselves of the local predators, sometimes turn on each other and engage in slaughter.”
“Well, it won’t last long,” Zeph replied, “natural selection will quickly send communities prone to murder to the dustbin of history.”
“Maybe he won’t send them,” Mau said, “if they don’t start killing each other. But then, after some random provocation, they’ll end up killing each other to the last one. It’ll be just like what happened with the forests in the Center.”
— So what are you going to do? — asked Zeph, but Pet, fully grasping Mau’s idea, was already controlling several robots on the planet without getting up from the table. Ump already knew what Pet was doing — he was directing the robots to the most influential leaders of the local tribes. While Pet was identifying the most suitable targets, Ump was formulating the task for the extrapolator computer.
“Do you want to sow discord?” asked Mau.
— It’s primitive, Ump replied, although it wouldn’t hurt to add some conditions to the extrapolator…
— And this too, said Pet, and added, — Now, look:
The robot came into contact with some local authority, initialized a plasma vibro-emitter, and began broadcasting the commands from the extrapolator that Pet had suggested: “Don’t kill,” “Don’t steal,” “Don’t…” Formally, the Supreme Assembly will have nothing to criticize if they happen to look at the logs of the surveillance station.
By the time the inspectors arrived, the planet of the First Project had been marked on navigation maps as “Does not contain IHF.” Ump reported to the Supreme Assembly about the impressive performance of the supposedly built-in “automatic limits” on the development of intelligence in I-life. The agricultural party was rapidly losing its electorate.