As the LeGuin decelerates from its hyper-speed flight, the ship slowly awakens from an 18-month journey that was spent entirely on autopilot. Now, one by one, the corridors’ cool ambient lights fade in, lines of code cascade down the computer screens, and the bio-pods hum back to life. Outside the ship lurks the dead black of space.
After traveling 420 light-years, you would be forgiven for wondering whether you’ve arrived at the right place. The “rogue” planets in the Upper Scorpius region are floating through space alone, in total darkness, untethered by any star. There are about 70 gas giants in this constellation of invisible worlds. We’ve come to investigate an Earth-sized terrestrial planet that appears to be geologically active. And, intriguingly, earlier probes detected simple phytoliths in its tenuous atmosphere, suggesting the possibility of life. We’re here to investigate. It's a small crew:
Kai, an astrobiologist, Heiko, an exogeologist, Tan-e, a documentary filmmaker, and waiting for us on the planet is Trig, the station's chief engineer.
[[Kai]] The bio-pod’s intravenous lines snap back from your arm with a tiny pop, dribbling fluid across your shoulder as they retract. You return to consciousness with a slight headache and mild nausea. You grab the sides of the pod and pull yourself up slowly. In the low-G environment your long braids float around your head like curious anemones.
The spaceship makes a reassuring hum. It smells of hot engine oil and gym socks, just like on the cargo ship Ardon on its mission to Enceladus. That was a fantastic bit of field research. Actually, you love being in the field. Your expert, intuitive knowledge comes from decades of experience working in extreme environments, whether tracking down endoliths in the deserts of Antarctica or diving below the ice fields of Ganymede. Your work has taught you to think creatively and make decisions on the fly. Whatever secrets this little rogue planet holds - you will find out!
But, first things first: getting control of that nausea. There must be some dimenhydrinate smoothies in the canteen.
[[Some people are so annoying]]
[[Sometimes, speak with patience]]
[[Some crew members are pretty cute]]
[[Some crew members are pretty funny]] When you arrive in the canteen, Heiko is already there. His lanky legs are stretched out from behind three disconnected refrigeration units. “Heiko. Whatcha doing?” “It stinks,” he grumbles, “checking the units.” “Seriously? We’re about to arrive at the station. I need a cold dimenhydrinate shake. Please plug them back in.” There’s a pause. “Okay, fine. If you want to live with this stench.” The units beep back on. “Thanks, Heiko. I know that Martians are sensitive to sub-nominal performance.” “Space wants to kill you. Will verify the flight logs next,” he replies and wanders off. “Okay! Thanks!” you call after him.
Tan-e bumbles in, looking worse for wear. You both grab a dimenhydrinate shake from the fridge and grab two chairs. “So, Tan-e, looking forward to filming on a Rogue planet? “It’s a bit of a technical challenge,” they admit. “Hope you brought some flood lights!” you quip. “Right,” Tan-e frowns getting up, “I better get going.” “Okay,” you reply and head to the docking bay.
[[Heading out with Heiko]]
As you step from the LeGuin onto Rogue 45 station, there is a palpable difference in atmosphere. It’s dim and quiet. It feels… lonelier. Trig is already in the loading bay, wearing a grimy jacket over remarkably clean pants. “Alright! Welcome to Rogue 45 Station! Follow me!” he ushers us the corridors. “You two,” he says, pointing at yourself and Tan-e, “are sharing this bunk. And you,” pointing at Heiko, “are in here. I’ve adjusted the gravity closer to Martian G.” Heiko beams!
You grab a snack and head to the meeting room where Trig is ready to launch into an orientation slideshow, but you politely object. “Thanks, Trig, but we need to get going. I’ll head to the lava tubes to verify the phytolith emissions.” “I’ll come with you,” adds Heiko, getting up, “I’ll take some petrochemical readings.” Ugh. You were actually looking forward to a solo exploration. “Cool,” Tan-e adds, “I’ll go and explore the planet surface. Get a few shots in.” The crew grab their spacesuits and head to the airlock.
[[Exploring the lava tube with Heiko]]Tiny crystals cling to the edge of the lava tube opening, like little sharp teeth. You and Heiko step across them, careful not to rip your spacesuits. The tube’s dark walls are slightly ridged; pebbles lie scattered on the floor. Then, in the far distance, you notice a dim glow. “Bioluminescence?” you suggest, pointing toward the light. “Unlikely,” Heiko curtly retorts. “It’s totally dark here, and there’s no oxygen. This is geological.” “Don’t be so sure,” you insist, bringing out your instruments. “There are organisms that don’t need oxygen. Also - do you notice a pattern in the glow?” “Maybe,” Heiko murmurs, engrossed with his own measurements. You’re pretty certain that there’s a pattern. You both wander further into the tube and come upon a massive cavern filled with giant crystals. Their complex cubic structure looks absolutely gorgeous. “I have a feeling about this place,” you say to yourself, “there’s life here.” “Nonsense,” Heiko cuts in, “this is geochemical. I’m going to get some samples back to the lab.” Hm. What does your gut say?
[[Continue to investigate]]
[[Head back with Heiko... maybe]]Heiko aggressively hammers into the cave’s wall until he dislodges a huge cluster of crystals with a chunk of matrix clinging to its base. He hoists it onto his shoulders and stomps off.
Good. You’re glad to finally be alone in this enchanted place. You have a hunch. If there’s a rock-based life form here, a type of endolith, it needn’t be carbon-based. You keep exploring the cave, taking measurements as you go. You’re getting increasingly certain. In this dark, oxygen-free environment, silicone-based life-forms may have developed. The crystals filling the cave could be their exhalations. This could be crystallized language. You try to communicate with the endoliths by blinking your headlight on and off. Something catches your eye, but your human visual range isn't sufficient to grasp what you’re looking at. What you need is a 3D scanner and an IR camera. Those are with the Tan-e. Nuts. You hear a faint scrambling sound coming from deeper within the lava tube. You climb in further to investigate.
[[You set up ALL the gear]] Heiko aggressively hammers into the cave’s wall until he dislodges a huge cluster of crystals with a chunk of matrix clinging to its base. He hoists it onto his shoulders and looks at you expectantly. Maybe he’s right. There are more instruments in the lab than you have in your kit right here. You could take more precise measurements. “Alright, then. You lead the way,” you demur. You both make your way back to the lava tube entrance. And yet.
There’s something about this glow pattern. It’s like the cave is drawing you in. And, in any case, Heiko will try to monopolize the lab bench for hours until you get a chance to collect data. No. The answers are right here. You stop in your tracks. “You know what, Heiko?” you call after him, “I’ve changed my mind. I’ll investigate here a bit more. You go ahead.” “Fine by me,” Heiko shrugs, and keeps going. You turn and head back to the crystal cave with absolute certainty that you’ve made the right choice.
[[You set up ALL the gear]] You venture deeper into the lava tube, climbing across increasingly bigger crystals. They are definitely glowing. The scrambling noise is getting louder, too. Then you spot a small silhouette against the glowing crystal. It looks human. Unbelievable! It's Tan-e, on their hands and knees!
“Tan-e!” you yell, “are you alright?” They feebly nod. “Here, let me hook you up,” you say, clipping your oxygen tank to theirs. They slowly sit up on one of the crystals and take in the spectacular view. You notice them observing the glow. “The glow has a pattern,” you explain, “I think this is silicone-based life. In an oxygen-free environment, their exhalations would form crystals. We are watching them talk. I need your gear to collect more data.” They agree and set up the scanner and the camera. What you see is amazing. Lights run across the edges of the crystals, intersecting, merging, bouncing off. You hook up your computer to the camera and feed the film into the Doyle Algorithm. The results are unambiguous. It's definitely language. It's alive.
[[You quietly leave]]
[[Time to publish!]] You and Tan-e stare at each other with huge grins. This is a spectacular discovery! Seconds later, the algorithm spits out a message: ENVELOP INTRUSION...FAST BREATH.
“What does that mean?” you frown, “INTRUSION - like intruders? Do they mean us?” “Hm,” Tan-e replies, “ENVELOP could mean the lava tunnel. But what is FAST BREATH?” “Compared with the silicone endoliths, humans breathe extremely fast,” you explain, “they “breathe” their communication crystals out of the basalt matrix over thousands of years.” “Of course,” Tan-e agrees, “I was thinking on an anthropocentric scale.” You both pause. “As soon as this gets public there will be a flurry of researchers and tourists here,” you say quietly, “an oxygen leak would be deadly to the endoliths.” “That would be unacceptable,” Tan-e frowns, “this is their planet. We have no right to interfere.” You turn to them with a smile, “I had no idea you support extraterrestrial rights.” “Sure do. It’s not at the top of my CV, but...” they respond. “We could keep this between us.” You both take a final view of the cave and quietly leave. You and Tan-e stare at each other with huge grins. This is a spectacular discovery! Seconds later, the algorithm spits out a message: ENVELOP INTRUSION...FAST BREATH.
“What does that mean?” you frown, “Do they mean us?” “Hm,” Tan-e considers, “ENVELOP could mean “welcome” like they’re including us in their conversation. But what is FAST BREATH?” “The silicone endoliths “breathe” their communication crystals out of the basalt matrix. They could mean ‘communication’,” you reply. You both pause. “As soon as this gets public, there will be a flurry of researchers and tourists here,” you say quietly, “an oxygen leak would be deadly to the endoliths.” “We can take precautions,” Tan-e suggests, “I can get a film crew here, all in double-sealed suits. Impact would be minimal.” “There may be silicone-based endoliths on other worlds,” you consider, “publishing data about this species could help to protect other, similar organisms.” “Exactly,” Tan-e agrees. Fantastic! In your head you are already composing the abstract for the most ground-breaking article you’ve ever written. As you step from the LeGuin onto Rogue 45 station, there is a palpable difference in atmosphere. It’s dim and quiet. It feels… lonelier. Trig is already in the loading bay, wearing a grimy jacket over remarkably clean pants. “Alright! Welcome to Rogue 45 Station! Follow me!” he ushers us the corridors. “You two,” he says, pointing at yourself and Tan-e, “are sharing this bunk. And you,” pointing at Heiko, “are in here. I’ve adjusted the gravity closer to Martian G.” Heiko beams!
You grab a snack and head to the meeting room where Trig is ready to launch into an orientation slideshow, but you politely object. “Thanks, Trig, but we need to get going. I’ll head to the lava tubes to verify the phytolith emissions. Want to join me, Heiko?” “Sure!” he exclaims, getting up, “I’ll take some petrochemical readings.” “Cool,” Tan-e adds, “I’ll go and explore the planet surface. Get a few shots in.” The crew grab their spacesuits and head to the airlock.
[[Heiko keeps an open mind]]
[[Heiko is skeptical]]Tiny crystals cling to the edge of the lava tube opening like little sharp teeth. You and Heiko step across them, careful not to rip your spacesuits. The tube’s dark walls are slightly ridged, pebbles lie scattered on the floor. Then, in the far distance, you notice a dim glow. “Bioluminescence?” you suggest, pointing toward the light. “Possibly,” Heiko replies, “but it’s totally dark here, and there’s no oxygen. This is likely geological.” “Maybe,” you consider, pulling out your instruments. “There are organisms that don’t require oxygen. Also - do you notice a pattern in the glow?” “You could be right,” Heiko says, looking up from his instrument. You’re fairly certain that there’s a pattern. You both wander further into the tube and come upon a massive cavern filled with giant crystals. Their complex cubic structure looks absolutely gorgeous. “I have a feeling about this place,” you say quietly, “there could be life here.” “We should get some samples back to the lab,” Heiko suggests. “Sounds reasonable,” you reply, “we can take more precise measurements there.”
[[Take a few samples]]Heiko enthusiastically hammers into the cave’s wall until he dislodges a huge cluster of crystals with a chunk of matrix clinging to its base. He hoists it onto his shoulders and looks at you. “Alright, then,” you say encouragingly, “you lead the way.” You both climb back to the entrance of the lava tube. You know that there are more instruments in the lab than you have in your kit right here, and that returning to the station is the most logical step. But there’s something about working in the field, of collecting data in situ, that is special. So, as a compromise you intermittently stop to take more measurements on your way. With your tiny portable camera you document the angles and shapes of the crystals. You think you may have gotten lucky and captured a hint of a glow pattern. You take close-up shots of the basalt matrix. It’s a good plan. While Heiko is monopolizing the lab with the crystal specimen, you’ll have enough data to analyze to keep yourself busy for a while.
[[Ambiguities]] You settle down at your workstation in your quarters and review the data. There’s lots of it, but not all of it is useful. Ideally, you would have had a 3D scanner and an IR camera with you. As it is, you’ll have to improvise. Maybe you can extrapolate from what you have and bootstrap the missing data.
After a few hours you think you may have enough material to get somewhere. You feed everything you have into the Doyle Algorithm and lean back. This will take a while to process. Fingers crossed. Finally, the algorithm spits out a result. Of sorts. It looks as though there’s definitely a pattern, but it’s unclear whether it’s language. There seem to be structural rules and signal dependencies, but anything like virtual phoneme occurrence is practically absent, and the Zipf’s Law distribution is, let’s say - ambiguous.
You sigh. Maybe it’s time to call it a day.
[[Take a break]]
[[Ponder your data]]Maybe all you need is a break. You head to the kitchen for a coffee. As you look for sugar, you notice a dusting of bright orange crystals scattered on a tray. Hm. If it’s a field sample it should really be in the lab, but it looks as though someone just tried to desiccate the crystals in the oven to prep them for scanning. You take the tray back to your quarters and scrutinize a few crystals under your field microscope. You can’t believe it! They look like miniature versions of the crystals you’ve seen in the lava tube. The microscope has a simple scan function. It may just be enough... You grab as many scans as you can and feed them into the Doyle Algorithm. This time, it takes no time at all to get a result: LANGUAGE DETECTED! Yesss! There’s not enough information to know what the crystals are saying, but it’s definitely enough to write up a quick article for the Astrobiology Information Theory journal. This is huge. Funding for your next expedition is assured! You get up from your work station and rummage through your bag. There it is, the small bottle of Scotch you’ve smuggled past your crewmates. You take a swig and look again at the results. They are definitely ambiguous. But not negative. You take another swig. Well, that’s science. Not every experiment works. Not every answer is clear. The scientific method looks all tidy and linear, but in reality, scientific practice is as messy as artistic practice. You try stuff, you test assumptions, you follow hunches. Sometimes everything lines up. Most of the time it doesn’t. This is one of those times.
Too bad, you had a strong feeling about this. Still, the result and the images are significant enough to merit writing them up. Maybe for a minor academic journal. It’ll be a line on your CV. You hold up one of the microscope’s images and take another sip of Scotch. The crystals look really cool; the prints will make nice art pieces for the station. You screw the top back on the bottle and start writing your article’s abstract. As you step from the LeGuin onto Rogue 45 station, there is a palpable difference in atmosphere. It’s dim and quiet. It feels… lonelier. Trig is already in the loading bay, wearing a grimy jacket over remarkably clean pants. “Alright! Welcome to Rogue 45 Station! Follow me!” he ushers us the corridors. “You two,” he says, pointing at yourself and Tan-e, “are sharing this bunk. And you,” pointing at Heiko, “are in here. I’ve adjusted the gravity closer to Martian G.” Heiko beams!
You grab a snack and head to the meeting room where Trig is already flipping through an orientation slideshow, but you politely object. “Thanks, Trig, but we need to get going.” “Great,” Tan-e interjects, “I’ll explore the planet surface. Get a few shots in.” You consider your options. "'l’ll join you, Tan-e. I want to check the base of the cryovolcanoes for phytolith emissions.” "Alright, I'll check out the lava tubes," Heiko adds and gets up. The crew grab their spacesuits and head to the airlock.
[[You drive across the dark terrain - with a small break]]
[[Tan-e drives for half an hour]]
[[Tan-e drives for two hours]]
[[You drive across the dark terrain]] When you arrive in the canteen, Heiko is already there. His lanky legs are stretched out from behind three disconnected refrigeration units. “Heiko. Whatcha doing?” “It stinks,” he grumbles, “checking the units.” “Seriously? We’re about to arrive at the station. I need a cold dimenhydrinate shake. Just plug them back in.” No reply. “Heiko, this is not a Mars habitat, you don’t need to get all anal about his.” Heiko’s bright red head pops up behind the units. “I’m not ‘all anal.’ The system is sub-nominal. This will just take a moment.” “Un-believable,” you grumble and grab a chair.
Tan-e bumbles in, looking worse for wear. They stare at the disconnected fridge with dismay and slump into the chair opposite you. “Heiko going anal again?” You just roll your eyes. “So, Tan-e, looking forward to filming on a Rogue planet? “It’s a bit of a technical challenge,” he admits. “Hope you brought some flood lights!” “Right,” Tan-e frowns getting up, “I better get going.” “Okay,” you reply and head to the docking bay.
[[A solo expedition - yay!]]
[[Heading out with Heiko (bummer)]]
When you arrive in the canteen, Heiko is already there. His lanky legs are stretched out from behind three disconnected refrigeration units. “Heiko. Whatcha doing?” “It stinks,” he grumbles, “checking the units.” “Seriously? We’re about to arrive at the station. I need a cold dimenhydrinate shake. Just plug them back in.” No reply. “Heiko, this is not a Mars habitat, you don’t need to get all anal about his.” Heiko’s bright red head pops up behind the units. “I’m not ‘all anal.’ The system is sub-nominal. This will just take a moment.” “Un-believable,” you grumble and grab a chair.
Tan-e bumbles in, looking worse for wear. They stare at the disconnected fridge with dismay and slump into the chair opposite you. “Heiko going anal again?” You just roll your eyes. “So, Tan-e, looking forward to filming on a Rogue planet? “It’s a bit of a creative challenge,” they admit. “Darkness can be deeply compelling.” “You have the soul of an artist,” Tan-e smiles. They are pretty cute. ‘Kai, focus!’ you think and head to the docking bay.
[[Heading out with Tan-e]]
[[Heading out with Tan-e (yay!)]]
Since you have more experience navigating extraterrestrial terrain, you decide to drive the buggy. Tan-e looks a bit uncomfortable in the passenger seat. Everything around you is shrouded in black except for the pink methane snow that glitters in the small puddle of light created by the buggy’s headlight. A few stars shine overhead. You love this. After about an hour you decide to take a break.
“We could pitch a tent to shelter our gear. I’d like to take the portable camera and the 3D scanner to scout for locations,” Tan-e suggests. “I don’t know,” you reply, “we don’t have that much oxygen left in our tanks. I’m keen to get to the cryovolcano. I’ve been getting some interesting readings from there, similar to phytoliths. There could be life. You’ll get some good shots from that location.” “Okay, sounds good,” Tan-e agrees and climbs back into the buggy.
You continue speeding across the dark terrain. The stars are frequently blocked from view by the silhouettes of the rogue planet group. You love the mystery of this place.
[[Exploring the cryovolcano]]
The cryovolcano is just about visible against the faint sprinkling of stars. You drive up its base and let off Tan-e, who immediately starts setting up their gear. You decide to walk the perimeter to take regular measurements with you instruments. When you circle back to Tan-e, they are rigging up some lamps. “I’m getting intermittent readings, but it’s inconclusive,” you say, “still, I have a feeling about this place. Can I borrow your IR camera?” “Sure!” Tan-e replies. You scan the surroundings. “There! Do you see that?” you exclaim and hand Tan-e the camera. They concur. “Let’s check that out,” you suggest. “Yes, absolutely!” they agree. Tan-e stuff their equipment into the buggy and you speed off in the direction of the glow, which appears to beam up straight from the ground. When you get to the location you realize that it’s a collapsed piece of lava tube. Through the opening you can just glimpse some massive crystals giving off a faint glow. This is exactly what you came for!
[[Is there a pattern?]] You grab a rope ladder, and you both carefully descend into the crystal cave. Once you’ve both found solid footing you take in the spectacular view. Massive crystals jut in every direction, their complex cubic structure glint in a green oscillating glow. “Wow. This is phenomenal!” Tan-e exclaims and immediately sets up their 3D scanner. The cube clusters look gorgeous. You investigate, instruments in hand, and the measurements are clear. “The glow has a pattern,” you inform Tan-e, “I think this is silicone-based life. In an oxygen-free environment, their exhalations would form crystals. We are watching them talk. I need your IR camera to collect more data.” Tan-e agrees and hooks up the camera. What you see is amazing. Lights run across the edges of the crystals, intersecting, merging, bouncing off. The colors keep changing. You hook up your computer to the camera and feed the film into the Doyle Algorithm. The results are unambiguous. It's definitely language. Something in the cave is alive.
[[You quietly leave]]
[[Time to publish!]] You feel a twinge of concern leaving Tan-e on their own. Do they have enough experience to set up their gear by themself? You sigh. Tan-e is a seasoned filmmaker. They’ll be fine.
You make good progress and get back to Rogue 45 station with plenty of oxygen to spare. As you run down the corridor toward the storage unit, you bump into Trig. He looks blasted. “Hey Trig! How’s it going?” you inquire. “Uh - fine. Okay,” he replies. “You look a bit under the weather,” you follow up, “are you sure you’re alright?” “Yes, totally!” he insists grumpily. He doesn’t look fine, but he’s an adult, and you don’t have time for this. “Good. I’m just popping in to pick up more oxygen tanks,” you explain, “Tan-e and I are heading to the cryovolcano. Take care,” you call over your shoulder as you head off. You throw the tanks into the back of the buggy and head back at top speed. There’s a gnawing feeling working itself up your spine. This took too long.
[[Where is Tan-e?]] You speed across the dark terrain, following the navigation system back to the spot where you’ve left Tan-e. You’re making good time, but you wished you’d get there faster.
Finally you arrive at the tent and skid to a halt. Something feels off. “Tan-e?!” you call. No answer. “Tan-e? Where are you?” Still no reply. You grab the oxygen tanks and drop them in the tent. It’s cold in here. The heater isn’t working. You grab the IR camera and scan the horizon. Nothing.
Then you hear a small voice echoing from the buggy’s intercom. "I'm lost! Help! I don't know where I am. Running low on oxygen. Help!" Your blood runs cold. It’s Tan-e.
Where the hell are they? You scan the ground again for any heat signatures. Footsteps, dropped gear - anything. Maybe... there is the faintest smudge on the IR display. It’s all you’ve got for now. You jump back on the buggy and head into the darkness.
[[StarNPR]]
[[Some gossip]]
[[A Rogue Experience]] The IR smudge becomes more distinct. It’s definitely Tan-e. Your heart races. You step on the breaks. “Tan-e!! Are you alright?!” you shout, “Tan-e!!” You kneel over their body and brush off the ice crystals. They’re still alive. You lift them into the buggy and speed back to the station, where you transfer them straight to their bunk. You strap an oxygen mask to their face and see their eyes flutter for a moment before they drift off to sleep.
You don’t leave their side until they wake up. “Tan-e, how are you feeling?” you ask. “Ugh. Alright, I guess,” they mumble as they sit up. “Kai, you saved my life. I was an idiot for staying behind.” “Nonsense, I should have insisted. I’m the one with the experience,” you respond.
You’re amazed that they forgive you. More than that, Tan-e suggests making a documentary about you, and you spend long hours talking. You get close to each other. In fact, there’s gossip now in the media that you’re dating. For once, the gossip is true! It’s the first time Tan-e drives a buggy on extraterrestrial terrain - and while wearing a space suit - and it shows. They are incredibly awkward and barely have a grip on the steering wheel. At least the scenery is beautiful. Pink methane snow glitters in the small puddle of light created by the buggy’s headlight. A few stars shine overhead. You love this. But after about two hours of bumping along you suggest to stop.
“Right, we could pitch a tent here. I’d like to take the portable camera and the 3D scanner to scout for locations,” Tan-e suggests. “I don’t know,” you reply, “we don’t have that much oxygen left in our tanks. I was keen to get to the cryovolcano, but it would be prudent to pick up extra oxygen tanks form the base. You can stay, I'll drive there and back before you run low.” Tan-e looks hesitant, but then relents. “Okay,” they mumble. You climb into the buggy and speed off.
[[Oxygen Pick-up, and Trig is grumpy]]
[[Oxygen Pick-up and Tirg is tired]] The IR smudge becomes more distinct. It’s definitely Tan-e. Your heart races. This can’t be happening. Tragedy looms in the dark air. Then you see them and step on the breaks. “Tan-e!! Are you alright?!” you shout, “Tan-e!!” But they are frozen solid, covered in a glittering shell of methane ice.
You kneel next to them, barely able to hold back your tears. Eventually you recuperate Tan-e’s body and their gear and head back to the station. You review the few snippets of footage that they managed to document, but there’s not much to salvage. You feel guilty for not insisting that they return to the station with you.
You write a glowing mission report, highlighting Tan-e’s adventurous spirit, their determination to document this inhospitable planet, and their unerring sense of aesthetics. You send it to the Institute and copy major newspapers and streaming outlets. The head of content development at StarNPR contacts you, suggesting to create a documentary about their tragic death on Rogue 45. It tops the streaming charts. You don’t care. When you arrive in the canteen, Heiko is already there. His lanky legs are stretched out from behind three disconnected refrigeration units. “Heiko. Whatcha doing?” “I'm checking the units,” he grumbles. “Seriously? We’re about to arrive at the station. Just plug them back in.” No reply. “Heiko, this is not a Mars habitat, you don’t need to get all anal about his.” Heiko’s bright red head pops up behind the units. “I’m not ‘all anal.’ This will just take a moment.” “Un-believable,” you grumble and grab a chair.
Tan-e bumbles in, looking worse for wear. They stare at the disconnected fridge with dismay and slump into the chair opposite you. “Is our favorite Martian at it again?” You just roll your eyes. “I get the off-Earther’s dependance on functional technology, but he does exaggerate a bit,” frowns Tan-e. “Control freak,” you sigh. “I CAN HEAR YOU!” Heiko bellows. “Must be his pointy ears,” Tan-e whispers with a conspiratorial grin and gets up. You stifle a laugh and follow them to the docking bay.
[[Heading out with Tan-e]]
[[Heading out with Tan-e (yay!)]] When you step from the LeGuin onto Rogue 45 station you feel a palpable difference in atmosphere. It’s dim, quiet, and… lonelier. “Alright! Welcome to Rogue 45 Station!” exclaims Chief Engineer Trig, who’s wearing a grimy jacket over remarkably clean pants. “Follow me!” he hollers, as he speeds down the corridors. “You two,” he says, pointing at yourself and Tan-e, “are sharing this bunk. And you,” pointing at Heiko, “are in here.” Phew. This is the bunk assignments you had hoped for. Low stress, more fun.
You drop your bag and head to the meeting room where Trig is already flipping through an orientation slideshow. “Thanks, Trig,” you interject, “but we need to get going.” "Indeed,” Heiko says, getting up, “I want to check out the lava tubes as soon as possible." “Great,” Tan-e adds, “I’ll explore the planet surface. Get a few shots in.” This is working out perfectly. "'l’ll join you, Tan-e,” you decide, “I want to check the base of the cryovolcanoes for phytolith emissions.” Everyone grabs their spacesuits and heads to the airlock.
[[Tan-e drives for half an hour]] Since you have more experience navigating extraterrestrial terrain, you decide to drive the buggy. Everything around you is shrouded in black except for the pink methane snow that glitters in the small puddle of light created by the buggy’s headlight. You love this. Tan-e doesn’t. They look decidedly nervous and unwell. “Tan-e, you want to take a break?” you offer. “Uhmm, it’s only been half an hour, but... okay,” they meekly reply, “I could take the camera and scout for locations.” “Well, we have enough oxygen left in our tanks. Okay. Let’s be quick, though.”
While Tan-e scoot off with their camera you decide to collect a few samples. Maybe material from the cryovolcano’s ejecta drifted out here. As you scoop up the pink snow, you notice faint sparks in the underlying regolith. “Tan-e, can you document this?” “What?” “I’m not sure.” You both stare at the ground. “If we’re going to investigate, I should head back and get more oxygen. “I was thinking the same,” Tan-e says quietly. You climb back into the buggy.
[[Oxygen Pick-up, and Trig is grumpy]]
[[Hopeful ruminations]] You feel a twinge of concern leaving Tan-e on their own. Do they have enough experience to set up their gear by themself? You sigh. Tan-e is a seasoned filmmaker. They’ll be fine.
It’s a fairly quick drive back to Rogue 45 station. You walk down the quiet corridors, making a list in your head: grab extra oxygen tanks, a micro heater, and a few more sample vials. After a quick stop at the supply closets and your bunk you’re ready to head back. There’s a sense of excitement growing in you. The sparks in the regolith may be signs of life. On a rogue planet it would not make sense for life to develop on the surface. There’s no light, no energy. But, there may be enough residual heat from the planet’s core to spark a reaction. Something along the lines of chemosynthesis. Maybe not very complex - but new.
You’ve got a good feeling about this mission. There’s life here. You smile as you hop back into the buggy and speed off.
[[Fireflies in the stone]]
[[I was just thinking that!]]You speed across the dark terrain, following the navigation system back to the spot where you’ve left Tan-e. When you get back to the site, you see them hunched over a sizeable hole in the ground. They get up and wave. “Kai! I’ve been filming the ground. There’s definitely sparkling. Like fireflies in the stone.” “And you’ve been digging, I see,” you reply, climbing out of the buggy. “Yes, there’s more activity the deeper you go!” ‘Time for a core sample,’ you decide and grab the drill. “Core sample, great idea,” Tan-e exclaims. “What?” you ask, “- yes, I was just thinking that.” You push the drill into the regolith. It goes down smoothly at first, and then grinds to a halt. “Damn!” you both exclaim at the same time. You frown and look at Tan-e. “What?” they ask. “Nothing,” you reply, “give me a hand.” You both stem against the lever and the drill dislodges. You pull up the sample. The smooth rock cylinder is emitting pulses of light. Inside your head, Tan-e whispers “It’s alive!”
[[Be careful with your thoughts!]]
[[LISTEN]] The IR smudge becomes more distinct. It’s definitely Tan-e. Your heart races. You step on the breaks. “Tan-e!! Are you alright?!” you shout, “Tan-e!!” You kneel over their body and brush off the ice crystals. They’re still alive. You lift them into the buggy and speed back to the station, where you transfer them straight to their bunk. You strap an oxygen mask to their face and see their eyes flutter for a moment before they drift off to sleep.
It takes 14 hours for Tan-e to wake up. “Tan-e, how are you feeling?” you ask. “Ugh. Alright, I guess,” they mumble as they sit up, “the space rookie survived. That was a close call. Maybe I should just film on Earth.” “I don’t know,” you reply, “all you need is some experienced guidance.” Tan-e gives you a sideway glance. “Maybe - team up?” they quietly propose. “Start our own production company?” you consider with a smile.
Otieno-An Productions launched a year later with the award-winning documentary A Rogue Experience. You feel a twinge of concern leaving Tan-e on their own. Do they have enough experience to set up their gear by themself? You sigh. Tan-e is a seasoned filmmaker. They’ll be fine.
You make decent progress and get back to Rogue 45 station with oxygen to spare. As you run down the corridor toward the storage unit, you bump into Trig. He looks pale and depressed. “Hey Trig! Are you alright?” you inquire. “Dunno. Okay, I guess” he replies. He does not look okay. “I can get you something from the med lab,” you follow up. “No, I’m fine,” he insists, “just overworked.” “Understandable,” you consider, “get some rest, Trig!” He nods. “I’m just popping in to pick up more oxygen tanks. Tan-e and I are heading to the cryovolcano. Take care,” you call over your shoulder as you head off.
You throw the tanks into the back of the buggy and head back at top speed. There’s a gnawing feeling working itself up your spine. This took too long.
[[Where is Tan-e?]]“What did you just say?” you ask Tan-e. “I didn’t say anything,” they reply, “but I was wondering if this..., well, whatever that is, if it’s alive.” “Too soon to say,” you consider, “the scan’s not reading any organic compounds. Still, not all life needs to be organic.” “The organic bias,” Tan-e says. “Yes, I didn’t know you were familiar with the terminology.” “I’m not,” they frown. You stare at each other. Then Tan-e’s eyes widen. “I heard that! I can hear your thoughts!” Oh no. What the heck did they hear? They smile. “You wondered whether the crystals somehow transmit brainwaves.” “I was,” you admit, “but it’s - too weird. How would that even work?” “Hey, you wanted to discover something new. You’ll be the one to find out,” they reply. ‘And, I can film you while you do so,’ you hear them echo in your head. “A documentary about me? I’m flattered!” you exclaim. Tan-e roll their eyes. “I’ll have to be careful about my thoughts!” “Me too,” you reply. “Too late,” they grin.You speed across the dark terrain, following the navigation system back to the spot where you’ve left Tan-e. When you get back to the site, you see them hunched over a sizeable hole in the ground. They get up and wave. “Kai! I’ve been filming the ground. There’s definitely sparkling. Like fireflies in the stone.” “And you’ve been digging, I see,” you reply, climbing out of the buggy. “Yes, there’s more activity the deeper you go!” ‘Time for a core sample,’ you decide and grab the drill. “Core sample, great idea,” Tan-e exclaims. “What?” you ask, “- yes, I was just thinking that.” You push the drill into the regolith and after a few minutes you pull it back up to reveal smooth rock cylinder that is emitting pulses of light. You feel a sudden rush of emotion - a warm wave washes over you and you hear an echoing hum, as though you just stepped into a cathedral.
“It’s alive!” Tan-e whispers. But they weren’t speaking. Their voice is coming from inside your head.
[[Be careful with your thoughts!]]
[[LISTEN]]“What did you just say?” you ask Tan-e. “I didn’t say anything,” they reply, “but I was wondering if this..., well, whatever that is, if it’s alive.” “Too soon to say,” you consider, “the scan’s not reading any organic compounds. Still, not all life is necessarily organic.” “The organic bias,” Tan-e says. “Yes, I didn’t know you were familiar with the terminology.” “I’m not,” they frown. You stare at each other. Then Tan-e’s eyes widen. “I heard that! I can hear your thoughts!” Oh no. What the heck did they hear? They sport a huge grin. “Well, I’m flattered,” Tan-e says with a small nod. Crap. CRAP! Small awkward pause. “Actually,” you cut in, “I wondered whether the crystals transmit brainwaves.” “Right. Well, I have no doubt that you’ll be the one to find out,” they reply. ‘And in the meantime, we should practice,’ you hear their voice whisper through your brain. They step right up to you and place their hand on your shoulder. ‘LISTEN.’ You do. You look up - sporting a huge grin. Since you have more experience navigating extraterrestrial terrain, you decide to drive the buggy. Everything around you is shrouded in black except for the pink methane snow that glitters in the small puddle of light created by the buggy’s headlight. A few stars shine overhead. You love this. Only, it looks as though Tan-e doesn’t.
“Tan-e, are you alright? Do you need a break?” you ask. “Ouf,” comes their small voice, ”this is worse than the Badain Jaran. No - I’m okay.” “You sure?” “Well - maybe a short stop.” You bring the buggy to a halt. Tan-e jump off and walk a few awkward steps. “We could stop here and do a film shoot,” they suggest. “I don’t know,” you reply, “we don’t have that much oxygen left in our tanks. I’m keen to get to the cryovolcano. But if you don’t feel well, we can head back.” Tan-e stands up straight. “No. No, I’m fine, really. Let’s continue.” They climb back in.
You continue speeding across the dark terrain. You love the mystery of this place.
[[Exploring the cryovolcano]]Tiny crystals cling to the edge of the lava tube opening like little sharp teeth. You and Heiko step across them, careful not to rip your spacesuits. The tube’s dark walls are slightly ridged, pebbles lie scattered on the floor. Then, in the far distance, you notice a dim glow. “Bioluminescence?” you suggest, pointing toward the light. “Unlikely,” Heiko replies, “there’s no oxygen here. This is likely geological.” You pull out your instruments. “Well, there are organisms that don’t need oxygen. Also - do you notice a pattern in the glow?” “Looks random to me,” Heiko frowns. But - you’ve got a feeling that there’s a pattern. You both wander further into the tube and come upon a massive cavern filled with giant crystals. Their complex cubic structure looks absolutely gorgeous. “We should get some samples back to the lab,” Heiko suggests. “Sounds reasonable,” you reply, “we can take more precise measurements there.” “I’ll extract that big one,” Heiko says, pointing ahead. “Grab a few small ones for me too, will you?” “Sure,” Heiko replies, and clambers off.
[[Take lots of samples]]Heiko enthusiastically hammers into the cave’s wall until he dislodges a huge cluster of crystals with a chunk of matrix clinging to its base. “Can you get that really luminous small cluster next to it for me?” you call, pointing up. “Alright,” Heiko grunts, stretching up, “you want the matrix?” “No, just the crystals, thanks.” “There.” Heiko passes you two handfuls of glowing cubes. You fit one cluster in your sample kit, the other you’ll have to carry in your hand. “Alright, then,” you say encouragingly, “you lead the way.” You both climb back to the entrance of the lava tube and enter the station. “I’ll let you examine your sample in the lab. I’m more curious about those light pulses. I’ve got a Doyle Algorithm processor in my quarters, so I’ll do a few readings there first.” “You’re really going to look for language patterns? That’s a bit of a stretch... anyway, there’s not much of a pulse left.” You look at the cluster in your hand, and indeed, it’s glow has nearly faded away.
[[Work in the dark]]
[[Check your bag]]
[[Don't open the vial]]You settle down at your workstation in your quarters and place the crystals in front of the Doyle Alogrithm processor’s camera. The cluster’s light has all but vanished. You hope that you can still grab a few scans and extract sufficient data to get a result. You switch off all light in your quarters to increase the contrast. You prop the crystals up in various angles. You run a low voltage through the cluster. All in the hope to squeeze out a bit more information from the sample. It may just be enough. This will take a while to process. Fingers crossed. Finally, the algorithm spits out a result. Of sorts. It looks as though there’s definitely a pattern, but it’s unclear whether it’s language. There seem to be structural rules and signal dependencies, but anything like virtual phoneme occurrence is practically absent, and the Zipf’s Law distribution is, let’s say - ambiguous.
You sigh. Maybe it’s time to call it a day.
[[Take a break]]
[[Ponder your data]]You settle down at your workstation in your quarters and place the crystals in front of the Doyle Alogrithm processor’s camera. The cluster’s light has all but vanished. You desperately hope that you can still grab a few scans. You switch off all light in your quarters to increase the contrast, but the luminosity has faded too much. Then you remember - the cluster in the sample kit! You rummage through your bag and pull it out. The crystals are still glowing. Hm. What’s different about this sample? You pull the cluster out of the vial and place it in the processor, which is immediately beginning to process the data. This is great! Only... are the light pulses beginning to slow down? You peer intently at the crystals. Crap. Both the luminescence and pulse are diminishing. Still, the algorithm is busy processing and finally spits out a result. There’s definitely a pattern. There are structural rules, signal dependencies and some virtual phoneme occurrence. But the Zipf’s Law distribution is... ambiguous.
You sigh. What to do next?
[[Take a break]]
[[Ponder your data]]You settle down at your workstation in your quarters and place the crystals in front of the Doyle Algorithm processor’s camera. The cluster’s light has all but vanished. You desperately hope that you can still grab a few scans. You switch off all light in your quarters to increase the contrast, but the luminosity has faded too much. Then you remember - the cluster in the sample kit! You rummage through your bag and pull it out. The crystals are still glowing. Hm. What’s different about this sample? You are about to pull the cluster out of the vial when you’re hit by a thought. It’s not the sample, it’s the environment! There’s no oxygen atmosphere on Rogue 45. The crystals in the sample kit were sealed in the lava tube, but here on the station, there’s breathable air - for humans. Oxygen is poisonous for some living organisms, even on Earth. That’s it!
The sample vial is transparent enough and just about small enough to fit in the Doyle Algorithm processor. Is it your imagination, or are the light pulses increasing?
[[Hello, World]]The lines of data are cascading down the processor’s screen so fast, you can barely keep up. There’s an intermittent pause and you get a brief chance to read the text: “PRELIMINARY RESULT: Structural rules - YES. Signal dependencies - YES. Virtual phoneme occurrence - YES.” Your heart is racing. Suddenly the data lines are flowing past you again in a blur. Come on! “ZIPF’S LAW DISTRIBUTION - s=1.27” This is good! There’s another pause. Then it comes: “LANGUAGE DETECTED.” Yesss! The crystals’s light in the vials is pulsing fast. Maybe there’s enough data to communicate? What are the crystals saying? Nothing is happening on the screen. The code scrolls up, line by line, leaving only blank space. Then a single line pops up: “HELLO, WORLD.” You let out a loud laugh. “HELLO, PLANET,” you type into the processor. You pull out the small bottle of Scotch you’ve smuggled past your crewmates and take a celebratory swig. This is it. The biggest story of your career. And it’s just getting started. When you step from the LeGuin onto Rogue 45 station you feel a palpable difference in atmosphere. It’s dim, quiet, and… lonelier. “Alright! Welcome to Rogue 45 Station!” exclaims Chief Engineer Trig, who’s wearing a grimy jacket over remarkably clean pants. “Follow me!” he hollers, as he speeds down the corridors.“You two,” he says, pointing at yourself and Tan-e, “are sharing this bunk. And you,” pointing at Heiko, “are in here. I’ve adjusted the gravity closer to Martian G.” Heiko beams.
You drop your bag and head to the meeting room where Trig is already flipping through an orientation slideshow. “Thanks, Trig,” you interject, “but we need to get going.” “Yes,” Tan-e concurs, “I want to explore the planet surface. Get a few shots in.” “You two go ahead,” Heiko yawns, “I’ll finally get a decent sleep in my individualized bunk. Thank you, Trig.” Perfect. You were looking forward to a solo exploration. The crew grab their spacesuits and head to the airlock.
[[Exploring the lava tube]]Tiny crystals cling to the edge of the lava tube opening, like little sharp teeth. You step across them, careful not to rip your spacesuit. The tube’s dark walls are slightly ridged, pebbles lie scattered on the floor. You feel like you’re walking through the mouth of a petrified snake. After a few minutes’ exploration you notice a dim glow in the distance. ‘Bioluminescence?’ you wonder. In this dark, oxygen-free environment the light emissions may well be geological, but you know that there are living organisms that don’t require oxygen to live. You bring out your instruments and scan the lava tube. Yup, definitely no oxygen. You carefully wander farther into the tube and come upon a massive cavern filled with giant, translucent crystals, most of them taller than you are. The interlocking and superimposed cubes look nearly architectural. Some are complex structures, others a thin filaments, terminating in a single cube. The light in the cave is pulsating from a pale magenta to deep blood red. You got a feeling about this place. There’s life here.
[[What's that sound?]]
[[A little creative engineering]] You have a hunch. You remember your expedition to Enceladus, where you clambered through dark, rocky ice caves in search for life. Deep inside a sedimentary tunnel you identified a rock-based life form, an endolith that lives in the tiny cracks between quartz crystals. There could be endoliths here as well. And they needn’t be carbon-based, either. The possibilities...
You keep exploring the cave, taking measurements as you go. You’re getting increasingly certain. In this dark, oxygen-free environment, silicone-based life-forms may have developed. The crystals filling the cave could be their exhalations. What you’re looking at could be crystallized language. You try to communicate with the endoliths by blinking your headlight on and off. Something catches your eye, but your human visual range isn't sufficient to grasp what you’re looking at. What you need is a 3D scanner and an IR camera. Those are with the Tan-e. Nuts. Suddenly, you hear a faint scrambling sound coming from deeper within the lava tube. You climb in further to investigate.
[[You set up ALL the gear]]
[[The IR camera still works]] You venture deeper into the lava tube, climbing across increasingly bigger crystals. They are definitely glowing. The scrambling noise is getting louder, too. Then you spot a small silhouette against the glowing crystal. It looks human. Unbelievable! It's Tan-e, on their hands and knees!
“Tan-e!” you yell, “are you alright?” They feebly nod. “Here, let me hook you up,” you say, clipping your oxygen tank to theirs. They slowly sit up on one of the crystals and take in the spectacular view. You notice them observing the glow. “The glow has a pattern,” you explain, “I think this is silicone-based life. In an oxygen-free environment, their exhalations would form crystals. We are watching them talk. I need your gear to collect more data.” The scanner broke during Tan-e’s fall, but the IR camera still works. What you see is amazing. Lights run across the edges of the crystals, intersecting, merging, bouncing off. You hook up the camera to the Doyle Algorithm processor hoping that there’s enough data to get a result.
[[You take in a final view of the cave]]
[[You're already composing the abstract]] You and Tan-e stare at the Doyle Algorithm processor’s screen in tense anticipation. Lines of data are cascading down its screen at a steady pace. There’s an intermittent pause and you read out loud: “PRELIMINARY RESULT: Structural rules - YES. Signal dependencies - YES. Virtual phoneme occurrence - YES.” Your heart is racing. More data lines are flowing past you, then another pause: “ZIPF’S LAW DISTRIBUTION - s=1.27. This is good!” There’s another pause. Then it comes: “LANGUAGE DETECTED. Yesss! There’s life here.” “Wow,” Tan-e whispers.
“As soon as this gets public there will be a flurry of researchers and tourists here,” you say quietly, “an oxygen leak would be deadly to the endoliths.” “That would be unacceptable,” Tan-e frowns, “this is their planet. We have no right to interfere.” You turn to them with a smile, “I had no idea you support extraterrestrial rights.” “Sure do. It’s not at the top of my CV, but...” they respond. “We could keep this between us,” you suggest. You both take in a final view of the cave and quietly leave.
You and Tan-e stare at the Doyle Algorithm processor’s screen in tense anticipation. Lines of data are cascading down its screen at a steady pace. There’s an intermittent pause and you read out loud: “PRELIMINARY RESULT: Structural rules - YES. Signal dependencies - YES. Virtual phoneme occurrence - YES.” Your heart is racing. More data lines are flowing past you, then another pause: “ZIPF’S LAW DISTRIBUTION - s=1.27. This is good!” There’s another pause. Then it comes: “LANGUAGE DETECTED. Yesss! There’s life here.” “Wow,” Tan-e whispers.
“As soon as this gets public, there will be a flurry of researchers here,” you say quietly, “an oxygen leak would be deadly to the endoliths.” “We can take precautions,” Tan-e suggests, “I can get a film crew here in double-sealed suits. Impact would be minimal.” “There may be silicone-based endoliths on other worlds,” you consider, “publishing data about this species could help to protect other, similar organisms.” “Exactly,” Tan-e agrees. Fantastic! In your head you are already composing the abstract for the most ground-breaking article you’ve ever written.
You have a hunch. You remember your expedition to Enceladus, where you clambered through dark, rocky ice caves in search for life. Deep inside a sedimentary tunnel you identified a rock-based life form, an endolith that lives in the tiny cracks between quartz crystals. There could be endoliths here as well. And they needn’t be carbon-based, either. The possibilities...
You keep exploring the cave, taking measurements as you go. You’re getting increasingly certain. In this dark, oxygen-free environment, silicone-based life-forms may have developed. The crystals filling the cave could be their exhalations. What you’re looking at could be crystallized language. You try to communicate with the endoliths by blinking your headlight on and off. Something catches your eye, but your human visual range isn't sufficient to grasp what you’re looking at. What you need is a 3D scanner and an IR camera. Those are with the Tan-e. Nuts. Maybe there’s an audio component you could record? It would take a small hack of your communicator. You pull out its resistor, ignoring the screeching feedback.
[[There's a hum...]]With the sound of your hacked communicator’s feedback still humming in your ear you venture deeper into the lava tube. You climb across increasingly bigger crystals, intermittently stopping to take audio recordings. Whenever you think that you spot a shift in the crystal’s luminosity you hold the communicator as close to its edge as you can. There’s an ambient hum, but you’re not sure whether it is modulating. You try holding the communicator to the cube’s faces. Same result. You slide the communicator to the tip. The hum appears to fade. Aha! You crouch down to the base and try again. There it is, the faintest whistling embedded in the static hum, barely audible. This could still be a geological phenomenon, something to do with fluid dynamics or heat exchange. Or it could be more. You pull the Doyle Algorithm processor from your field kit and do a bit more tinkering until you have them both hooked up. Here’s hoping that there’s enough data to get a result!
[[Another piece of the puzzle of life]] You stare at the Doyle Algorithm processor’s screen in tense anticipation. Lines of data are cascading down its screen at a slow pace. There’s an intermittent pause and you read out loud: “PRELIMINARY RESULT: Structural rules - YES. Signal dependencies - POSSIBLE. Virtual phoneme occurrence - MINIMAL.” This isn’t great, but it’s a start. More data lines are flowing past you, then another pause: “ZIPF’S LAW DISTRIBUTION - s=3.74” Not great, but there’s hope. Another pause. Then it comes: “LANGUAGE POSSIBLE.”
This is not the ground-breaking result you were hoping for, but your gut tells you that you’re on the right track. All you need is more data. Get more equipment down here. You slowly rise up and take in the view of the cave. Now that you’re more tuned in with the environment, you can definitely discern a pattern repetition in the crystals’ glowing pulse. You get that feeling again, like on the expeditions to Enceladus and Ganymede, when you crouched in other dimly lit caves. Here, on this dark world, you found another piece of the puzzle of life.