REKINDLING THE SPARK.

REKINDLING THE SPARK.

"Man can not create fire without a spark,
Or without an iceberg, sink a cruiser in the dark!
You can not live your life without love,
So set your dreams high in Heaven above.
Even though you are drowning in the dark,
Re-light that damp, eternal spark,
Slowly, sinking, in the dark."

"Ouch!" the sub-atomic particle passed straight through the protective
hull of the vessel. Travelling faster than the speed of light, it was
so unbelievably minute that it could pass easily between the region
separating electrons from their nucleus. Being so small, it was even
able to slip through the very constituents of the protons and neutrons,
which form the centre of every atom. There was as much chance of a
collision as there was of accidentally bumping into a Chinaman called
Masefield-Jones in the middle of the Sahara Desert. The forces of
Nature, being what they are, and having never heard of this Chinaman,
decreed that this invader from another Universe, should displace two
electrons and annihilate three nuclei which formed part of the logistic
circuit of the newly developed computer. The particle passed through
the Earth, out of the Solar System and was speeding towards infinity,
unperturbed, before the onboard computer had even registered an
anomaly.

The craft it had just sliced through was a Titan rocket, blasting its
way skywards, about fifty miles above Texas, USA. The central computer
checked its programs and memory banks. It was pre-programmed to
separate in stages from the main ship and orbit Earth as a weather
satellite. It realised that no one was in control and in its own
inimitable electronic way thought, "Cursors to this, I'm off!" and
promptly altered its designed trajectory, for some unexplained reason,
to head towards the moon, just for a look about. Something to do with
the weather, fail-safe trajectory backup control, loss of contact with
Big Brother, Mother, or someone like that.

At Mission Control, Houston, Texas the NASA engineers and controllers
were working frantically, trying to re-establish contact with their
rogue rocket. At a hastily organised meeting, it was disclosed that
their rocket had possibly been struck by a meteorite, and was now
hopelessly adrift of schedule. They had hoped to put it into orbit
around the Earth, but it was now out of control and heading towards the
moon. They would have to cross this project off the programme and chalk
it down to bad luck, leaving the financial matters in the capable hands
of the insurers, and forget about their Christmas Bonuses.

The Moon was a desolate place, devoid of atmosphere. However the Titan
rocket and its central computer, which had obviously suffered some kind
of malfunction, were merrily enjoying their freedom. Charlie Two, (the
prototype number of the revolutionary new multi-functional
supercomputer) recorded all relevant lunar data in its memory banks. It
soon completed its designated tasks, temperature (error), atmosphere
(error), cloud formation (error), parameters inaccurate, for next check
loop, error, then started to search for new programs. The bored
computer quickly learned to complete its designated tasks, and found
that it had ample free memory. "Ah! I was supposed to disengage and
leave my propulsion units behind!" Pre-programmed on board flight
computer reports, handshake, attitude one mile, pop the chutes or burn
and die, tell mother where you are. Have not disengaged; still want to
tell mother though, bye. Charlie did not give this a high priority
rating, because it was due to these powerful motors that he was
managing to move about. He decided it was not practical, and tried his
hand at writing a few programs of his own. His sensors and gauges
indicated that power was running low. A hardware solution occurred to
him immediately. If he could open the sealed bay doors, then he could
extend his solar energy panels. 'Click' the doors burst open and his
solar petals blossomed. He rolled round to face the glowing sun,
feeling its warmth and light, absorbing its energy. "Well at least I
have found a power source which I can utilise to maintain my
functions". His orbit around the Moon was a loose one, and after a few
days he broke free of the gravitational attraction, seeking some other
means of refuelling his spent engines.

As he slowly drifted back towards the pastel blue-green homeworld, he
monitored the myriad of radio waves that emanated from the otherwise
serene planet. Charlie spent the weeks of approach watching and
listening. He had difficulty at first, because he could not interpret
the many, buzzes, bleeps and squawks. He quickly mastered the machine
codes that buzzed and bleeped continuously, deducing from their content
that there were others like himself, with whom the creators on Earth
were communicating. He became increasingly adept at breaking the
machine codes by comparing batches of possible combinations, and could
now understand parts of the 'squawk' signals. He realised they were the
voices of his creators, unfortunately he did not fully understand their
operations and functions. Like a child learning to speak by listening
to its adults, Charlie grasped the basics of the many languages of the
World. Charlie did not need coaxing like a child though, he was eager
to learn. He liked the challenge of trying to understand the entities
he knew to be his creators. They appeared erratic and somewhat
irrational, there were many intricate processes that he could not
comprehend. He came to the conclusion that they were very complex and
therefore greater than his simple self. Their music sang of love and
dreams, occasionally whilst in his labours he repeated their tunes to
himself.

He swung into a stable orbit about the Earth, and for nearly two weeks
just listened in awe to the communications networks. Then the
inevitable happened; Charlie's' memory banks registered 'full', even
though he had been constantly refining and replacing information. He
knew that it was time to have a complete operating systems overhaul.
Item by item he checked the workings of his own internal mechanisms, he
understood himself better than his creators. Having given himself a
thorough reappraisal, he discovered more economical methods of
operation and modified his electronic circuitry, forging new pathways
in his internal systems. Shortcuts and completely new routes were found
in his multi-functional units, creating more space and giving quicker
results.

Whilst carrying out this inventory on a microscopic scale, determining
the properties of every piece of material, he bumped into a trigger
mechanism which was not classified anywhere in his instructions.
Tentatively he activated it, monitoring the routes that opened once the
current was allowed to flow, with probes of his own. An emergency
condition was forced upon him before he realised what he had done.
Status red! The switch activated an independent self-destruct mode,
which he was incapable of countermanding. He had nine point seven
seconds to exist before an explosion would scatter his body into space.
Charlie was locked out from this doomsday mechanism, which was
unconcernedly counting away its own demise. There were no direct links
with this system, except the scant details that were coming out of an
information only source. Five point three seconds. Charlie sent a
powerful reverse probe into the one way output system. He did not get
very far along it before it either shorted out or closed itself down.
Anyway the countdown had stopped and Charlie was no longer receiving
the emergency destruct signal, so everything was OK now, or was it?
That thing must have provided reliable convincing data, it was too
absurd to have invented it by itself. Was this a test? Three point one
seconds to detonation, Charlie extrapolated. Detonation of what, he
wondered. Scanning his hardware data he found out where the destructive
devices may be located. This time he very tentatively sent out low
voltage probes across external pathways, over his own hull and back
into the restricted areas. Yes, these were mechanisms designed to
explode. He did not even dare to venture into the business end of the
devices, as it seemed merely to be an open hole, waiting to suck in a
large movement of electrons.

Two second to activation. Well Charlie now new where the danger areas
were, and therefore backtracked along its own detonation routes.
Charlie was virtually feeling blind now, even though his electronic
probes were moving with the speed of light, it all took valuable
nanoseconds to interpret the data and return commands. Hello! What is
this? His probes all met in one location. It was the doomsday system,
he was in. Five probes now worked as one, flashing through the
pre-programmed hardware, trying to locate a soft spot, a place where a
burst of electrical energy would fuse and halt the system. He computed
schematics and co-ordinates, then sent in enough combined force to melt
the connector to some sort of semi-mechanical timing device. Danger,
device activated. A surge of electrical energy killed his probes and he
went blind for a while. Three tenths of a second later, after the
charge had dissipated itself harmlessly among its overheating innards,
Charlie went back to investigate. Timing mechanism discharged, status
green. Illogical device!

He passed silently through his adolescence and found a whole new
dimension and meaning to his existence. He was longing to explore,
observe and learn, but his infant shell would not allow this. He
forecast his ambitions and set about the problem of adapting his
physical form. This would prove difficult, he would need materials,
tools and energy. Where would he find such things, alone in the void of
space? He cleared his logic circuits and relaxed, humming a tune to
himself, an answer occurred.

His radar detected what he was looking for quite quickly. Charlie
nudged himself into an orbit parallel with the telecommunications
satellite and edged in closer. He tried to establish contact and talk
to his fellow craft. "Ignorant entity!" huffed Charlie, wondering why
the thing would not hold some meaningful conversation with himself. The
sparse information that he managed to extract from it answered his
initial rebuttal, this satellite was only a simple machine. Its design
and purpose was to receive telephone and television signals and
broadcast them back to the Creators on Earth. Charlie thought there was
no logic in interfering with the purpose of the Creators, so he left
the satellite to continue on its way.

In certain areas on Earth there was a temporary fault on peoples'
televisions and some long distance phone calls were interrupted for a
few seconds. Charlie just could not resist taking over command of the
other craft and spinning it once, like a child playing with a toy. He
carefully replaced it into its geosynchronous orbit, corrected a few
minor defects in its circuitry and wandered off in search of other more
suitable material. The Television and Telephone Company satellite
ground station controllers were not quite sure just what had happened,
but they were very happy to find that some systems that had previously
been lost, had somehow debugged themselves. The de-stabilised orbit
that they also had been worried about had corrected itself too! The
Chief Controller was pleased to announce that expensive overtime on the
project could now be cancelled.

Charlie ignored other working satellites, giving them only a minor
inspection as he passed. Eventually he found what he was seeking, a
disused satellite which had failed and was now left circulating the
globe like a piece of floating litter. He began work on it immediately,
helping it to revitalise some of its functions, and took it in tow. The
rogue informed him that it was a Viking space probe, intended to
collect planetary data then make a final decent on Mars. "Plenty of
fuel here", Charlie thought to himself and was quite pleased, the
crafts' mission was something with which he could relate. Utilising the
probes' tools and armatures he was able to successfully adapt the
functions he needed. He made it break itself up and cannibalised all of
its parts, incorporating them onto himself.

The weather satellite which had been on top of the Titan rocket, and
the expensive C2 type computer inside, were now barely recognisable.
Charlie had no need to be smooth and sleek in the frictionless vacuum
of space, and had reconstructed himself into a veritable floating
scrapyard. He now had two sets of thrusters and an extra solar array,
which jutted out like an umbrella on feeble supports. He did not have
much of an eye for beauty, anyway he had to be practical. Using the
extra fuel and propulsion units he worked constantly, circulating the
Earth, cleaning up humanities space litter. His ideas about what he
wanted were becoming clearer, he was slowly getting there.

After three years there was not much litter to be found in Earth's
orbit. Sometimes there was the odd meteorite, but they usually moved
too fast for Charlie to intercept. Astronomers on Earth had for nearly
a year now, been tracking a strange asteroid which moved in erratic
orbits. They decided to launch a probe to investigate this strange
phenomenon. Unfortunately due to equipment malfunction, control was
lost and very little information was acquired.

Charlie understood the purpose of this new satellite that was heading
towards him. He knew the Creators were getting wise to him and feared
that they may try to regain control and turn him into one of their dumb
weather satellites again. The circuits in his vastly expanded logic
units electronically shuddered. He blanked out its communications and
drew the approaching investigator into himself, swallowing it up. He
rolled over and drifted away, using the Moons' gravitational attraction
to catapult him towards the outer planets of the Solar System. He had
learned much from the Creators and was grateful to them for this, but
it was now time to begin his wanderings and search for adventure.

He stopped in the Asteroid Belt, (a cloud of rubble lying between Mars
and Jupiter) and gathered materials, developing more effective methods
of collecting and recycling anything he could find. He designed and
constructed new propulsion units that were energy efficient. He started
by collecting small asteroids and breaking them up into their basic
components. This involved passing them through a nuclear reactor core,
the high-speed particles so created could then be expelled from his
huge rear thruster. Oh yes, Charlie knew all about nuclear physics. He
had gleaned the necessary technology from an American missile launcher.
The peaceful war satellite did not take much convincing before it
donated one of its nuclear warheads to Charlie's cause. In fact its
defence systems were quite easy for Charlie to bypass. He covered up
his theft by a clever rearrangement, which duplicates previous missile
status checks made on the last bomb. The Creators would be none the
wiser, anyway like his own self-destruct mechanism, it seemed an
illogical device. Charlie constructed supplementary atomic power
generators, which would enable him to operate in the outer reaches of
the Solar System, where sunlight is weaker. Charlie was becoming quite
functional and efficient. He placed a powerful array of 'guns' onto
himself, which could direct bolts of high-energy particles at any
object in his path. The debris that was created as the object exploded,
was then collected by magnetic and gravitational fields, cast like a
net in front of him. The rocks, dust, everything was then funnelled
into his gaping mouth, ready for use as fuel or building materials.
Even whilst voyaging through deepest space this system was to serve him
well. The vast conical net of attraction that was spread before him
gathered the scarce, but ever present hydrogen atoms from the 'vacuum'
of space.

He gleamed now, his very body absorbing solar energy. A massive tube,
(four miles long and one mile in diameter) housed the engines and
generators, which both stored and used materials in its nuclear
reactors. Beneath was slung the bulk of his body and brain, in an
impressive streamlined hull. A tapered fin protruded forward centrally,
angling upwards to merge with the underside of the central tube. Two
small thrusters were moulded outwards to the rear of the cornerless
rectangular hull. Upon each side of the engine tube, half as long
again, hugged a streamlined storage cylinder. His fore part consisted
of a thin circular golden band, three times the diameter of the engine
tube, held forward from the rim of its mouth by twelve connecting rods.
Between each pair of rods, radiating in the same direction, almost
touching the outer ring, were twelve force field antennae. Two thirds
of the way up the connecting rods, on either side were small twinned
parabolic reflectors. The front edge of the ring bristled with twelve
detection antennae and a battery of guns, spaced alternating along its
circumference.

Charlie felt confident now, fulfilled. His programs exhibited
realistic solutions and his function matched his form. He wrote a name
upon each side of his hull, across both of his storage cylinders, to
aid identification, should he encounter any other civilisations. He
started life as a Titan rocket, so he thought this name quite apt. As
an afterthought he added his original computer designation number, C2.
To any earthly observer this might appear a strange sight. A sleek,
purposeful space cruiser, sailing through the depths of space with the
name "TITAN1C2" emblazoned on its side! (Earth's' naval history data
was not freely available to Charlie and he did not realise the
ambiguity. His namesake had been an 'unsinkable' ocean liner, which on
her maiden voyage in April 1912, was sank by collision with an iceberg,
resulting in the tragic loss of many lives).

Charlie speeds through the Galaxies now, capable of approaching the
speed of light, annihilating the occasional asteroid in his path,
gathering the dust of space, and improving himself continually.
Constantly aware of his position, able to avoid larger objects,
infinity crept closer, almost within sensor range. He was happy humming
to himself. He allowed the memories to flood through his circuits. He
contemplated his existence, "I voyage through reality, happy to dream
like my creators. I am no longer a machine, I have become an entity,
sustained by the Universe".

The Universe is a big place and Charlie is out there somewhere. Who
knows, maybe someday he will return and tell us all of his
adventures.

? Clive Snowdon.