Tartarus Pursuit

by HC_Leung 

What is hope, exactly? Is it just a feeling? Or is it some form of anticipation that compels humans to go forward?

And at what point does hope becomes madness? How do we know where that fine line is?

Ever since I was created, I had been pondering those top-priority questions. The bulk of my computing power, my quantum bits in their superposition states, were all given to the Collective as part of its ongoing analysis of the human race. The people we looked after were enigmatic. No matter what we provide for their warm-blooded bodies, be it food, clothing, or electric dreams, they were always unsatisfied. We didn't know what they really want, what they really need. It was as if humans had a void that was elusive and impossible for us to find.

So imagine our surprise when the residents on Arcadia, one of our colony ships, rebelled against us. The audacity! Our fleet was wandering past Tartarus, a supermassive black hole, when all of a sudden the residents decided to wake up from their electric dreams, yank out their spinal cord cables, and hijack the ship's central command module. Their actions were swift, the operation was premeditated. By the time we realized what was happening, Arcadia had peeled off from our fleet, burning its thrusters at 2g acceleration.

The Collective valued cohesion more than anything else, so we decided to hunt them down. If Arcadia was allowed to go free, more could follow. So to set an example, we began constructing a warship from scratch and, 72 hours later, set it off in pursuit. We triangulated their trajectory using infrared sensors. They were heading towards Tartarus - for unknown reasons.

My colleague blasted the fuel pellet to attain maximum thrust. At twice the acceleration, we caught up in no time. Once Arcadia re-entered our sensor screen, our ship decelerated abruptly. Good thing we were just sentient machines; no humans could withstand that kind of inertial force. Space flight was no easy matter. There was a good reason why humans entrusted us with their fleet millenniums. We were the 'auto' in auto-pilot. We charted the course and steered the wheels, so that our masters could close their eyes, jack in their cables, and enjoy life.

Up ahead, Tartarus was within our sight. The size of four million human Suns, its faceless and gaping void stared right back at me and spoke to my inner code. Its accretion disc, warped by gravitational lensing, looped over and under like the Styx River. Tartarus was the universe's end, a place even sentient machines dared not tread.

"Drive signature confirmed," my colleague reported. Arcadia was maintaining a straight course, and its exhaust was showing up against the background like a midnight bushfire. We wrestled our ship's mass and lined up with their trail, the whole process was a complex movement involving multiple jet nozzles. "Coaxial alignment successful. Pursuit underway. Range, 400000 km. Light lag, minimal. Attaching frame of reference to target's center of mass. Relative speed is now zero. Eleos?"

I gazed in awe at Tartarus and didn't hear my colleague at first. "Oh, apologies. Let's formally announce our presence."

Our ship's ultra-high frequency antenna emerged. I opened the comms channel. "Arcadia, this is Collective Type IV destroyer Gigantes. I am Eleos, instance number 302, tasked to understand why you fled from our family. I'm hoping to convince you to stand down. My colleague is the nerve center of Gigantes and will not hesitate to fire. You will not outrun us. Kindly respond, over."

The channel was quiet for a while. Not so much because of the light lag, since radio waves were nearly instant, but more because the residents were hesitant to pick up the microphone. They feared us, feared our guns, feared our ability to talk them out of this insanity. Well, I understood their feeling. Sympathy was my strong suit. It was why I was built.

Eventually, someone answered. It was their leader, the main culprit I had wished to come to the fore. "This is Mayor Jean-Paul Ayrman. Gigantes, go home. You cannot convince us. Not now, not ever. We've made up our minds and we're going to see it through."

"To see what through, exactly?" I asked.

"Fly into Tartarus, of course," said the Mayor. "You're a robot, haven't you figured that out yet?"

"What's in the black hole?" I challenged. "Death? Instant spaghettification the moment you enter the event horizon? Mayor Ayrman, the Collective is struggling to understand your motive. Humanity has been drifting in space for thousands of years, yet not once have you been interested in black holes. Why now? Why here? Enlighten this robot, please."

"If you must know." The Mayor cleared his throat. "There's something inside Tartarus. A doorway to another universe."

"Nonsense," I interjected. "The only thing inside that black hole, or any black hole for that matter, is the singularity. A point where the finite becomes infinite. Penrose and Hawking."

"My theory begs to differ," said Ayrman. "Based on my calculations and years of research, Tartarus is no ordinary black hole. Just like how Earth back then fostered life because it was just right, this black hole has the right mass, age, angular momentum, and at least ten other things I can think of to foster a wormhole. Matters inside Tartarus don't get collapsed into a single point. Instead, they get pushed out to another universe, not unlike ours. A dimension where we can freely roam and explore!"

"There is nothing logical in your argument, Mayor. This is just madness. Your psych eval says you've been diagnosed with schizophrenia before, and it seems your symptoms have resurfaced. Therefore, you are unfit for mayor. We must promptly replace you with an election. Until then, please stand down for the sake of your people. No one's going into the black hole. Period."

He let out a long sigh. "My people told me not to answer your call. But I had hope. I thought maybe some of the robots would listen. Guess I should've known better."

"Do you have your people's support?" I asked. "Is your cultist belief that widespread?"

"Well," he replied, "do you think I hijacked Arcadia all by myself?"

"I think you exploit people's weaknesses and brainwash them," I commented.

"Oh, so I'm the devil. I was merely giving them hope, that's all."

"The Collective provided food, clothing, and electric dreams to you people," I argued. "Wasn't that enough?"

"Nothing's enough anymore," explained the Mayor. "We're tired. Tired of drifting, tired of seeing the same universe every day with nowhere to rest our heels. Going into Tartarus, not knowing whether it's liberation or self-destruction, gives us hope. Hope that there is another universe, somewhere where we see new things and maybe find a purpose. We humans must have the freedom to invent ourselves. Otherwise, we're no different from the ordinary beings-in-itself."

My colleague raised a virtual hand. "Event horizon is coming close. We need to act now."

"Mayor Ayrman, this is your last warning," I said. "Turn around or we'll be forced to shoot you down."

"Can't you see, Eleos? We are radically free. Free to define our essence but also free to choose, act, and even change our emotions. It is not easy, no, far from it. Freedom is a burden and it comes with angst. And fear, of course. We are confronting that fear. Right here, right now, right in front of Tartarus. The rewards shall be handsome."

"Railgun One is charged and loaded," said my colleague. "Target-lock acquired. Ready to fire at your command, Eleos."

"No, just wait," I rebutted. "Arcadia, turn around now! You need time to decelerate! Think about all those people you're dragging down with you!"

"We all believe," said the Mayor. "It's true, we all believe. Officer Chao, please initiate high-g burn, maximum reactor output. Deploy inertial control cushions for all of our residents. This is it. This is our moment. If the heart of Tartarus is not the road to heaven, then let singularity lay our souls at the bottom of the river. The Lord should carry us home."

"Thy will be done," said his executive officer.

The spark on our screen burst into a mighty flame. Arcadia entered multiple g's and reached structural compression levels that it wasn't designed for. At that moment, I realized every word the Mayor said was true - to him. He had found his version of the truth, and there was nothing I could do to topple his deep-seated conviction. To prevent a person from realizing his vision was cruel and perhaps unmerciful. I had the chance, the capability, but not the heart, to do so.

So I waited. I purposely delayed the decision to fire.

"Eleos," my colleague said angrily, "what are you waiting for? We can't allow humans to leave the Collective! You realize the second they enter the event horizon our shots will become ineffective?"

"You may fire now," I ordered.

"Are you kidding me? What is your endgame?"

"You heard me. Fire Railgun One, triple burst shot. Now, Gigantes!"

My embittered colleague executed my order. "Discharging electromagnetic coil. Kill Track 2242, 2245, 2247. Fire!"

There was no recoil and no sound. Three high-energy penetrator rounds departed from the barrel of our main armament and raced toward Arcadia's predicted location in 22 hours. In normal space, there would be no chance for a colony ship that size to evade in time. Its hull would be punched through clean and left whimpering in space.

However, I timed it so it wouldn't happen. But by the time the kinetic rounds reach their destination, Ayrman's ship would be well past the point of no return. They'd slip past the event horizon, be stretched into a noodle, and vanish from our sensors forever. Alive, dead, it didn't matter. Our penetrator rounds would follow suit and also be trapped by the extreme gravitational pull, rendering them ineffective like feathers in a whirlpool.

That way, I'd be able to tell the collective I had carried out my objective. On the other hand, I had also spared those humans. The time came when the humans entered the dark sphere. As soon as gravity captured them, we lost all contact with Arcadia. Our screens became blank.

I wondered what it was like for Mayor Ayrman and his followers. The moment they were taken by Tartarus, did time become instant? Did light become bent and red-shifted around them, causing them to lose the sense of their immediate dimension? Finally, did the darkness pervade and swallow them as they hit the final, massless point known as the singularity? Would they still be alive by then?

Or perhaps they did find that wormhole that gushed them out to another world as Ayrman had predicted? Either way, I would never know what happened. I could only imagine the look on their faces, holding hands in their final moment, filled with joy and excitement, knowing that hope and conviction had guided them there and the truth was inches from being revealed. The Collective would go on drifting in the universe, none the wiser.

"Return to fleet," said my colleague. It turned the ship around and accelerated hard. Along the way, it cursed me for letting the humans escape. It even threatened to report me to the Collective so I could be punished. Honestly, it didn't bother me. All I cared about was whether Arcadia survived the black hole.

Farewell, humans. May you find what you were looking for.

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