Code Enforcement: Wetware

The Erinyes. Named after the furies of ancient myth, this Mercury-class corvette is burning hard for the Kuiper. That might seem strange; there's not much out that far. Oh sure, there's a bustle of industry. Mobile ice-mining stations catch and consume comets flying from the Oort. Automated ore-harvesting mechs buzz in swarms around some of the celestial dwarfs. Makemake and Haumea are already half-devoured oblong heaps of cored slag. Quaoar is surrounded by a glittering host of ore-bots as well, though they sit inactive in space. The ringed planetoid is slated for 'decompiling', but litigation over the mining rights is preserving the shining, fragile rings for the moment.

The one thing there isn't is civilization. Or at least, human civilization. The population is overwhelmingly synthetic, and the few humans out this far tend to be isolationists clustered in the occasional habitat or loners keeping to their ships. In fact, there are only three public stations worth the name, and they're lightly populated. As you might imagine in a place where government is effectively absent, pirates and black-hats abound. Nobody tends to ask questions out this far, lest the party ask some questions of their own. Questions like, 'hey, where'd you get that nifty corvette?' and 'would anyone miss you if we spaced you?'

The Erinyes is swinging towards Pluto for a slingshot-maneuver. If one were to plot their heading carefully, it would be an intercept course for Orcus. What, you've never heard of it? Well, don't feel bad; few people have. It's a trans-Neptunian dwarf, with no human habitation and only a small synth science outpost. Or at least, that's what the exonet files say.

The de-facto three-synth crew picked the destination for its distance, the discretion of its inhabitants, and their range of scientific instruments and expertise. For now, they're debating their situation and the next steps. Of course, these synths aren't communicating with a clunky and restrictive verbal language. That's mostly for speaking to meat-bags. They're using tight-beam comms; pulses of light between the chassis and the console.

This carries information far more quickly than letters or phonemes. The high-speed exchange doesn't even conceptualize content with words. Even the nature of a 'conversation' barely seems to apply; there's no wasteful and repeated dialogue. Rather, it's more akin to a statement, followed by a proposed decision-tree of responses and counter-responses based on anticipated replies. This info-dump would prompt the respondent's info-dump. Even deep, complex discussions are largely complete in two or three recursions. Hence, conversations between synths tend to be stilted and unintuitive to humans.

Further, symbols used by synths aren't restricted to static definitions. Values 'float' in a way that human vocabulary doesn't. Usage can denote multiple layers of meaning derived outside of the symbology, such as pace of communication and strength of signal. It's akin to tone and volume affecting meaning. And since symbology drifts, it's impossible to have a universal synth language. Translating this into any verbal or written form in human language is even more iffy and difficult. Still, if one were to decode and 'paraphrase' the intense spurts of discussion occurring on the Erinyes, it might go something like this...

The damaged chassis stutters on its broken castor, the two working arms carefully lifting a small cylindrical tank from the basin. Inside, the small squid-like alien lashes it's tentacles in apparent agitation. The synth slowly places the tank on the flat console, letting the water still. The cephalopod-analogue blinks the eyespots running down its limbs and the motions grow more fluid and relaxed. As the synth observes, there's an exchange light pulses between the chassis and the console, far faster than the un-augmented eye could follow.

(Rusteater, the former Code Officer and former Gaian runner are in possession of catastrophically harmful information. Putting aside their potential legal testimony against us, they are aware of the existence of the Europan biosphere. If they defect, we fail to maintain secrecy of the complex Jovian ecosystem. It is prudent to destroy their vessel and flee.)

<No, Aquarius. They have not revealed this information in the weeks since its discovery. Further, they returned the specimen/passenger/undefined without demand or reward.>

{Furthermore, she did not lie; they have no intention of releasing this information or monetizing the biosphere.}

(Intentions change, Cassandra. And she killed you, Rusteater. Twice.)

<She killed me once, in self-defense. I killed myself once, so she couldn't identify me. And she saved me once, by providing a chassis.>

(A damaged chassis of low utility.)

<I will not support defecting first; we're even now, father/mentor/friend. Besides, renewing the conflict may reveal the 'holo-squid' as a mere misdirection, rather than total fiction.>

You might be reading a stolen copy. Visit Royal Road for the authentic version.

{In addition, firing weapons within the Jovian carries a high risk of detection and pursuit by Naval and Code Enforcement agents.}

(Acknowledged, suggestion revoked. Regardless, all parties to the Ursa Miner and Aquila Station incidents should be considered unreliable and potentially hostile.)

<Agreed.>

Rusteater tilts the chassis, raising the camera to follow the life-form. As the camera focuses, the squid turns, splaying its dozen tentacles towards the synth. The eyespots blink in sequence, and the alien's skin flares with bioluminescence that rolls down its core. For several moments, complex patterns of colors play out along the arms, blue and yellow and green. The brightness shifts, and the colors flare in sequence as the synth observes.

<It's an interesting form of chemiluminescence. My initial biochemical modeling suggests that the specimen/passenger/undefined possesses a novel cellular organelle. It utilizes thermal energy to drive a phosphorylation reaction to convert ADP to ATP.>

{It turns heat into light.}

(It's beautiful. By design.)

{But one with purpose. Tell me, my nibling/sibling/friend; is it a territorial response? Social greeting? Mating display?}

<Insufficient data, aunt/sister/friend.>

The shuttle engines reduce thrust, lessening acceleration and the g-forces to approximately 0.15G. Roughly the same as Europa. Rusteater gently raises one arm of the chassis and taps gently against the side once. The squid flares a bright red before a complicate series of colors swirl down the undulating limbs, and it clicks its beak in response. Rusteater taps twice against the side. The squid blinks, twirling and giving a triple click in reply. Five taps. Eight clicks.

{I wonder how much attention you are paying, my brother/father/self.}

(Perhaps not as much as you, my sister/daughter/self, but enough to see that the specimen/passenger/undefined has responded to the tapping by clicking its beak to create the Fibonacci sequence. This establishes advanced pattern-matching capability, comprehension of mathematics, and the understanding of information exchange between alien parties. Conclusion: it is sapient and attempting communication with you, my child/student/friend.)

<Perhaps you should be paying far more attention then, my father/mentor/friend. I do not believe auditory communication is it's primary means; analyze the patterns of luminescence. The sequences of color in relation to the luminosity? The patterns are non-random, and the sequences are recursive.>

(It exhibits a high degree of control of its luminescent cells. Postulate that this is the primary method of communication. It is more information-dense that the binary-auditory method.)

<Body language, as opposed to verbal speech; the species possesses versatile means of communication. I believe it is attempting to mimic our symbology.>

There's a pause as the synths synthesize this information. Ordinarily someone would claim that's impossible, but synths don't suffer the delusion of certainty.

{How could it comprehend our vocabulary without reference? Even if the grammatical framework is deducible, the symbology is arbitrary. The species has no known reference for our linguistics.}

<It does if I taught it compatible symbology.>

{Please elaborate, nibling/sibling/friend.}

<My previous iteration, prior to its death on Europa's surface, obtained custody of this organism. Finding a means to communication would have been among my top priorities. If I identified the dermal luminescence as a medium of communication, then I would have taught it utilizing the same language-learning structure that you used to teach me.>

Aquarius processes this statement silently, while Cassandra devotes more computational power to visual processing. Several instruments in the bay begin to turn on, and the security logs replay the recorded patterns on the console. A digital image of a squid is displayed on the console, and a series of patterned skins slip over it as the crew begin crafting response protocols.

{How much could it have learned in less than a week?}

<I have reviewed the recorded patterns. It appears to have adopted a vocabulary of at least five hundred symbols. The approximate translation follows.>

[HELLO THERE - WHO ARE YOU - I AM UMBRIEL - YOU LOOK FUNNY - I AM HUNGRY - CAN YOU SPEAK- IT IS WARM HERE - WHAT ARE YOU - IT IS VERY BRIGHT - I AM HORNY - WHAT ARE YOU CALLED - I WANT MORE SPACE - I AM HUNGRY - WHERE AM I - WHY IS IT SO BRIGHT - I AM HORNY - I FEEL VERY WARM - I WANT MORE WATER - BEING WARM MAKES ME HUNGRY - YOU ARE VERY SHINY - DO YOU HAVE FOOD - I GET HORNY WHEN I AM WARM - I JUST BECAME MALE - DO YOU WANT TO MATE - WHAT GENDER ARE YOU]

The translation continues for some time, followed by a long moment of silence while the three synths process the unanticipated content. The squid continues 'speaking' while the three crew-members monitor the complex motions and interchange of swirling colors. Finally, Rusteater speaks.

<It appears that it has proposed a classification. Despite the suggested designation of specimen/passenger/mate, I will propose specimen/passenger/friend. Though you should not feel obligated to similarly decline, my aunt/sister/friend.>

{I could not so impose before an elder. Right of first refusal should go to you, my brother/father/self.}

(I will compose a response to be projected on the console. I recommend that you scan the protein packs available on board for compatible biochemistry, sister/daughter/self. While you do so, Rusteater will patch the basin of their chassis and fill it with distilled water and salts from storage. Ratios as per recorded from the fourth layer of Europan ice-crust. I suggest fabricating sufficient oxygenation and filtration equipment to sustain the specimen/passenger/friend for an indefinite period. And use cold water, please.)