The Evolution of Mind: In Space and on Alien Worlds

by Mark Thomas

Staff Writer

KNOWING AND THE KNOWN: THE TRANSACTIONAL NATURE OF REALITY

“There is no truth. There is only perception.” (Gustave Flaubert)

You don’t see this world as it is. You see it the way you and the world agree it should look and call the collaboration transactional.

From the time you were six already planning your escape off the Aeolus, and from your trips to Titan with your dad, you remember those words. His words. Right now, you’re wondering: was he already preparing you for this? Did he know how desperate you were to get out there?

Or was he just someone who read too much philosophy and had you, his eager protégé there at his side ready to listen. 

But here’s the thing. Lots of time and effort went into training you for this. After your dad it was tutors, the academy and your thesis adviser all sure you’d find your way to an alien world on a mission to do something important.

But that the alien world – your first assignment would be Earth? That part was hardly expected. Or was it.

“Will we be starting every morning this way?”

Looking down from the roof of the Special Intelligence Services building on Marchmont, you’re questioning how much of this is you, and how much of it’s Earth the way they perceive it. And about that; how do they perceive it?

Glancing at your partner there with her morning coffee, you sense her discomfort. 18 storeys from the street, 60 metres and she’s petrified.

And that’s just the tip of her limitations.

“How many people do you see Kaela?”

With a tenuous step closer, she peers over the short parapet down at the boulevard.

“Thousands? Thursday morning in London. How many do you see?”

After quick eyeing her, you look back and isolate. “Seven.”

Before she can follow that up, a G9-Survey Craft appears in the sky in front of you – hovering – sending down spiralling, gravitomagnetic currents. Inside the cockpit staring at you is Price. A man in search of a new project who broke the rules by coming here.

“Make that eight.”

Grabbing your arm, Kaela takes a step back.

“What is it?”

“It’s a geological survey craft used off world. Propulsion designed for up to 10 Earth gravities.”

A minute passes with you staring at Price across the expanse. He’s all you imagined. Cold – robotic. And the challenging stare is exactly what you’d expect from someone with his reputation.

“Who is he?”

Pulling back on the control arm, he lifts the craft high – 200 – 300 metres in a fraction of an Earth second, arcs above and screams off into the east. Soon just a dot heading for the horizon.

“A genius, Kaela. And dangerous in ways I can barely explain.”

Turning, you give her a quick look then start across the deck for the access door.

THE FALCON AND THE FALCONER: THE DUAL NATURE OF ENGAGEMENT

“A hunter who does not consider its prey is destined to become the prey himself.” (K.A. Linde)

Image by StockCake

After the ride down, you and Kaela head out through the lobby. The day is blinding and the air thick with the many smells they accept. Puzzling as that is. Foods – pollution. Fruit trees. The sea and all that comes with that.

Nothing like that sanitised, nearly non-existent air on the Aeolus and the other stations you’re used to. It’s an adjustment you anticipated making. Just never occurred to you to pack along an environment suit.

“He’s T. Eric Price.” You reach the front and hold the door like a proper gentleman. “An off-world engineer. Kepler 452c, 452e. Originally from the Trappist 1 system. Brilliant with quite a skillset. And a rather unique ideology he’s determined to share.”

“What happened? Why would he bring his crew here?”

Now at the curb waiting for your Rover, you turn and take in the masses – moving along at their sustained crawl. Barely moving at all that is.

“Ask yourself…” Pulling your eyes from the swarm, you look at the Earth girl – thoroughly accepting of an environment you find baffling. “…why London? Of all your cities… why would someone on a mission land here?”

While climbing in, she glances over the roof. “I don’t know… what mission? What’s he after?”

Now inside buckling, you glance out at the traffic. Bumper to bumper taxis inching along. And there on the curb, directly across is Aisi Jay, Price’s lieutenant and first convert. A fanatic and equally deadly, watching as if inviting you out.

“Peace, Kaela. But at a cost.” With your eyes locked ahead, you go for your belt and the door. “Start the car.”Stepping out, you follow Jay’s eyes to the crane working above the building next door.

Back to Aisi. The distances and trigonometry – dashes in 3d space filling in. “Back, Kaela!” A quick glance in while slamming the door. “NOW! Floor it!”

She jams the Rover into reverse and the pedal down spinning the tyres in smoke. And now it’s you taking off into the street slipping between and over cabs until you reach the far lane.

Hopping up the curb, you snap a glance back and watch the 6-tonne bucket dropped from the new construction slam into the concrete drive. Kaela in the Rover a safe two metres back.

Turning again, you’re after Jay who’s already in through the doors of the Piedmont heading for the escalators up to the mezzanine.

Up the steps, in through the lobby doors, you see her at the top and dive just as she lets off a spray from an automatic gouging the tiles.  Screams – people running for cover. Alarms – the front glazing explodes and falls in sheets.

To your feet, with the lobby in chaos, you pull out your 16mm and start up after her while yelling down at security.“Which elevators go to the roof?!”

“Seven and eight.”

“Shut them down!”

After a sprint up, you head down a long corridor then into the emergency well. Up, you hear her vaulting steps two floors above and turn it on.

At ten, you hear the door two floors above open and Aisi head out onto the deck. Outside is the drill like whine of the G9 – Price there to collect her off the roof in what is certainly a nifty plan for you.

Two more floors, and you’re at the door - and time for you to do your thing. You stare off at a wall – images like your private cinema form: the roof from across the street, the access door, the roof mechanicals. The chiller. What’s that? A shadow. Someone standing to the right. And there, another to the left outside the roof access.

“Two…”

Focussed, you step out with your gun pointed left – two rapid shots into Ravi Burrows then a dive to the roof where you spin onto your back letting off two more into Ian Roth there waiting – gun in hand ready for the ‘end of days.’ Yours.

These were two of Price’s recent recruits. Maniacs from 51 Pegasi.

Turning to the north, you look in through the cockpit bubble of the G9 at Price and Aisi - and lock eyes with Price the moment he lifts off and heads east aware now of something you weren’t this morning.

That he’s aware of you – and has made removing you his priority objective.

ENVIRONMENTAL PSYCHOLOGY: THE EVOLUTION OF PERCEPTION

“We don’t see things as they are, we see them as we are.” (Anais Nin)

Image by StockCake

No one’s given all the details their first time out. You weren’t. When you hit Earth and walked into SIS Monday and got introduced to Kaela, your partner, you objected. Nothing to do with her being from Earth, mind you, it was all about her being a woman from Earth. And it wasn’t chauvinism. At least, not entirely.

On a planet this divided; East – west, right – left. Races, religions, ethnicities. Socioeconomics, men – women. Everyone networked into some power-support group, what an asset to Price the master of division who will use it to pit you against each other.

But now with the stakes raised - him aware of and determined to eliminate you; you realise to stop him; you’re going to need her. And possibly tap into whichever groups she may be aligned with. White Socialist, White Populist - Feminist pro-left, pro- right – it really doesn’t matter.

If that need arises, you’ll play to anyone’s team. But for her to be of help, you’re going to need to enlighten her to a few things.

Walking early the next morning along the suspended service way hung beneath the Knights Street Bridge, you turn to see her borderline terrified. The height – the water and the boats passing below. Talk about masterful manipulation. It took pretty much all you had just getting her out here.

“Let me ask you something. You don’t actually see the 3-dimensional environment you exist in do you.”

“What do you mean?”

At the first junction, you climb two steps, grab the railing and turn. “You see the light reflected from objects. The water – the boats. Movement – the rate at which things fall. The environment you ‘see’ is a construct. Your mind creates it from the reflected light hitting your eyes. You’re a participant in your environment as much as you are an observer.”

“I guess.”

With her holding that thought and the shaky metal railing, you reach for a fire extinguisher latched at the base and pull it free.

“Watch. And imagine how less afraid you’d be if things fell like… like this…” She follows it over the railing. “…at one tenth Earth’s gravity.”

Moments on, after watching it slowly down as if it were on the Moon, she turns to you confused but beginning to piece it together.

“Yesterday. The crane – that bucket that would have killed me. Then later on the roof, you…”

“…Yes. I saw it. Processed it at a faster rate.”

“How? Why?”

“Things move fast in space.”

Turning, you continue along the grated walkway explaining how evolution, your perceptions, predicated largely on movement – which are predicated on the speed objects move through or fall due to gravity determines your cognition – and your visual processing.

How, on Earth, all creatures evolved with a gravitational acceleration of 9.81 m/s2. All movement throughout time here has been based on that and the rotation rate of the planet. Days, hours, minutes… not even seconds are the same everywhere.

And how you, the 6th generation on the Aeolus orbiting Saturn, moved about in an environment where orbital velocities of 20 to 30 kilometres per second were the norm. Trips away to different moons – different systems at thousands of kilometres per hour – approaching relativistic speeds at times were common.

And that even on different planets with 10 Earth masses or 1/2 or 1/10th, or on planets that rotate quickly, slowly or not at all; movement changes you. How fast you process visual information – and your perceptions.

“And Price?”

Now at the mid-point you turn, not to Kaela but to the horizon. To the twin fighters dropping from above flying supersonic. You can hear the booms from the buildings in the distance.

A quick check of your watch – then the calculation.

“How far is the water, Kaela?”

After a short pause, she looks over the railing. “Far.”

“It’s not though… look again.”

Still staring down, she shakes her head and blinks. “No… It’s almost as if I can….”

“…You’re not afraid are you.”

“No.”

With the jets coming right at you flying just above the water, you calculate again – four Earth seconds. “Climb Kaela!”

The command, an absolute; she turns and sees them. With a hand on her arm, you guide her up and take one last glance just as the pilots drop air to surface missiles.

“Now Kaela!”

After the journey down, slamming into the water, you surface and look up – and watch the missiles slice through, obliterating the metal service way exploding in the air on the other side.

To your left, Kaela watches amazed. Then turns to you with a question but holds it, instead following your eyes to the shore, then up into the arcade to Price watching from the piazza – then turning and disappearing into the underground.

Undoubtedly already planning your next adventurous episode here.

THE PREDICTION MACHINE: ALGORITHMS OF THE MIND

“The study of mathematics, like the Nile, begins in minuteness but ends in magnificence.” (Leonhard Euler)

Image by StockCake

“You knew.”

Now on the shore after the swim, with police flyers and the news, and agents racing the UN Secretary General’s motorcade off the bridge, you snap a look at Kaela who is struggling with all of this.

“Probabilities. From your news.”

“Why’d they miss?”

Getting to your feet, you drop her a hand. “Because Price sees me more of a threat to his plan. He’ll have other opportunities for the Secretary.” Accepting you’re now committed to telling her things you hadn’t planned; you pull her up and nod to the road. “Come on. Let’s go get dry. I’ll explain back at SIS.”

There are problems with this. Taking Kaela in – educating her. Your persuasive abilities with her will decrease the more she knows. She’ll question everything you may implant for its origin. Moving her along and getting what you need from her will get harder.

She may be limited, but she’s not stupid. And she reads. The information is out there – even here, and she’ll find it.

Though quiet on your way back, you know she’s questioning how you influenced her on the bridge. To see her world – its physics – the 3d environment differently. And jump. Right now, turning into the underground garage she’s wondering how you accessed her head and what else you’ve done since you were put together.

She’s feeling exposed, vulnerable just being near you. And it’s hard to blame her for that. Few accept their head is open source with a smile. It’s a little beyond: ‘hey, your phones are tapped, and emails are public domain.’

Now pulling into her numbered space and killing the Rover, she stares ahead – hesitant but wanting to ask. But also, suspicious. If you had her trust earlier, you lost it on a bridge doing something important. And necessary.

Deciding to relieve her of the burden, you answer it for her.

“Images, not language. I can’t ‘hear’ your thoughts.”

Unconvinced – she nods but keeps her eyes straight ahead.

“I’m glad we saved him. I don’t even mind putting myself out there as a decoy.” She turns to face you planting her head on the steering wheel. “You could have asked.”

Before you can explain your reasons, she opens the door, steps out and looks in before heading for the garage lift.

“Maybe what you did today is acceptable out there. Anything for the greater good. It’s not here. Access my head again without asking, and I’ll file a complaint with the oversight board.”   

After she slams the door and heads off, you sit working it through. How you’ll proceed and how you’ll approach her upstairs.

How you’ll convince her Price is all that matters. And what you are and are to each other is irrelevant. That keeping her planet from the Peace through Purity ideology he’s out to promote – and the manipulation he’s already employing with some team, is the only objective you need to concentrate on.

But now climbing out, you’re wondering if you believe it. And if you’ll need to give how you’ll behave here another look.

LOOKING BACK: BUT ONLY FOR A BETTER PATH FORWARD

“The gem cannot be perfected without friction, nor man perfected without trials.” (Attributed to Confucius)

Image by StockCake

Ethan, your dad once said; building trust is hard; rebuilding it after you’ve damaged it nearly impossible. He also said it was a mistake to value people the way you do tools or devices - by their utility. What use they can be to you. That they possessed hidden value you could only unlock with friendship built on trust.

Walking into the office after a long night pouring over your problem, you spot Kaela at her desk scanning pictures and bios of Price and his team on her monitor.

This is new territory for you. But somehow, you know you took it apart and put it back together in the right order. Now it’s on to application.

“Commands.” She squints – watching you pull over a chair and sit facing her. “Like queries. With filters, but filters you apply.”

“What are you talking about?”

“We’re going to do something important today, Kaela. Something that will change your world. But to be successful, I’m going to need your help.”

A moment passes before she decides to award you if not her trust, an open mind. She nods, grabs her blazer and stands. Then together you make your way to the lifts.

After leaving the office, you drive to Union Square where there’s a large anti-war protest with Terry Bentham speaking into a microphone beneath a stretch canopy. He’s more than a radical parliamentarian who’s designated himself the spokesperson against the country’s involvement and support in yet another foreign war.

His popularity has grown making him the favourite in the upcoming election for Prime Minister. If he wins, he’ll move to end military support to a regime that’s gone from self-defence to slaughter – which would prompt other European nations to follow. It will be the end of an empire. The empire you’re convinced Price has signed onto.

The numbers here with banners and signs and flags are vast. Tens of thousands crammed as they are every Saturday into the iconic square.

“Yesterday when I told you I saw only seven people – Price’s team from our roof at SIS, you wondered how I did it.”

“The streets were jammed.”

“The human brain runs algorithms the same way a DGX Quark 20 core supercomputer does running an advanced LLM program. Not as fast, but its parallel processing gives it even greater capabilities. And if you train it, it can work just as efficiently.”

“How?”

Sensing she’s ready – now open to trusting you again, or at least learning from you, you point out over the protest. “How many people?”

“Uncountable.”

“Look again – but now filter out the women.” After looking from corner to corner, her eyes widen. “Now the men, Kaela.” She blinks and again looks out over the protest in amazement at what she’s doing. “Now change the filters. Remove anyone holding a sign.”

After 10 minutes of this – taking her through different filters – different search criteria: only men in suits – only Asian women – only women with head scarves, men with glasses, children, police units, she turns to you with a look of suspicion.

Heading off the question, you look her in the eyes. Purely genuine now. None of that off-world superiority, and yes, chauvinism you brought here with you. “No. I’ve done nothing. But right now, I need you to stick with me and concentrate.” She nods anxious for more. “You had an image of Price’s right hand Aisi on your monitor earlier. She’s out there – right now – find her Kaela.”

Without questioning, she turns, scans the square and points across at Aisi Jay standing on the steps of the Union Square Gallery. Her eyes focussed on Bentham mid platform still addressing the crowd.

“There.”

Taking your gun from your jacket, you point her left along the walk. “Go. I’ve got Price on the other side in front of the bookstore. One of them is going to kill the MP and start a civil war. And he set it up so I wouldn’t know which.”

Now with her 16mm from her blazer, you watch her take off left pushing into the crowd after Aisi while you go right for Price – soon to make their move – accomplishing a big part of what they came here for.

HOW POWERFUL THE HUMAN MIND UNCHAINED

“What a liberation to realise that the voice in my head is not who I am.” (Eckhart Tolle)

Image by StockCake

It was a perfect plan set up by a master who assessed and played to your weaknesses. The male visual processing is 20% more efficient at picking a man from a crowd than a woman. And women score even higher in laboratory studies picking out other women.

It’s inherent. It’s biology. It’s evolution.

And he never believed you could bring Kaela your Earth partner up to speed. Not in the amount of time you had. And just like you, he’d discounted her.

Now pushing through the crowd, you meet Price on the curb outside the bookstore getting ready to make his move and tackle him. The fight there on the pavement is a spectacle – a crowd-pleasing bonanza you’ll relive and share with your son someday.

Punches – jabs – kicks. Price, like you has been well-trained in Karate. After what seems an eternity with the two of you on your hands and knees spent, the police show up and do something quite unique – they arrest and cuff both of you.

While examining your government ID, still unsure whether they should believe and release you, you turn when Kaela shows up handing Aisi – bloodied and bruised to the officers.

“He says he’s MI6 Lieutenant. That he works out of your office.”

Kaela takes your ID from the cop and studies it. “I don’t know. I don’t remember an Ethan Prescott at Marchmont.”

With your ID, she walks over and stares. Relishing the moment. “Yeah… now I remember. You’re that pompous shit from Leeds no one wanted to work with.”

Rolling your eyes, you shake your head when the cop goes to remove the cuffs.

Now standing together, you take a moment and watch them hall Price and Aisi into a police vehicle. It’s a bittersweet moment. Less gratifying somehow than you’d imagined it would be. More like another day at the office.

Glancing over at Kaela, you grasp she’s already there. Lower expectations. More experience. So, this is humility. Damn… “I guess I deserved that.”

“You think?”

Together you turn and start to walk. “Maybe not that though.”

Now heading onto Shaftesbury, she continues. “You know, of course, I’ll be questioning forever if that was truly all me.”

Stopping at the corner, you turn – delivering your response like a poet. Or one of those inspirational bots you find clogging the internet. “I helped you unlock something today that’ll make you… let’s just say, more exceptional than you already were.”

After a moment, she smiles and walks around the car. While unlocking her door, she looks at you over the hood. “That, was impressive.” She starts to laugh while climbing in. “My God, are you good.”

Grabbing your door, you hop in for your ride back unwilling to follow that up – feeling you’d probably mess up what is turning out infinitely better than you could ever have expected.

Mark Thomas

Storytelling Science