Darwin's Blueprint

By Christopher Slatter

Two maverick biologists assess planets for possible human settlement following the abandonment of the Earth. Known as First Footers, Murphy and Greenspan operate far from any central authority and have to be self-reliant and resourceful. They discover they have to battle not only alien environments, but corrupt officials too who will exterminate entire species to make money. Once every twenty years they must return to the planet Home to undergo review and relicensing procedures. It's a process they hate, but without a license the Guild of Exobiologists would stop giving them assignments. They return to Home and submit to a series of humiliating tests and procedures encountering symbionts - human/machine hybrids -
and a new technique that allows them to visit the past. It's an adventure which turns out to be more dangerous than anything they've faced before.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Christopher Slatter
• Release date: Dec 1, 2012
• ISBN: 9781301129539

Christopher Slatter

I have been a professional writer since I was 17 years old. I have been an advertising copywriter, film director, teacher of screenwriting and a television producer. I have worked for some of the world's largest advertising agencies in Australia and the UK before attending the London Film School for two years. A career as a director of television commercials and short films followed before returning to Australia to take up the post of creative director of a small agency in Melbourne. Following an invitation to direct a series for Australian television, I returned to the screen. Then in 1990 I went back to university, studying geology, horticulture, environmental science and plant genetics. I am also a writer of science fiction with several published stories. I hold dual British and Australian citizenship. I have two (very large) children which are the joy of my life

Book preview

Darwin’s

Blueprint

A novel by Christopher Slatter

Copyright Christopher Slatter 2012

Cover design and illustration by Eric Laplace

Smashwords edition

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Darwin’s Blueprint

Introduction

Darwin’s Blueprint

Chapter 1 – A Surprise Picnic

Chapter 2 – The Holiday of a Lifetime

Chapter 3 – Home

Chapter 4 - Sergeant Trudi

Chapter 5 – The Jungle

Chapter 6 – The Sea of Time

Chapter – 7 Regression

Chapter 8 – The Swarm

Chapter 9 – Jambo

Chapter 10 – The Apprentice

Introduction

Dear Minister,

How pleased I am that you have at last decided to publicise the work of the First Footers. The human exodus from Earth would, in all likelihood, have come to nothing without the efforts of Dr Murphy and Dr. Greenspan and the other exobiologists who are part of our Guild. First Footer teams work alone without the possibility of support, or immediate recourse to a central authority. The expansion of humans into space and the colonisation of planets are due in the first instance to the First Footers’ courage and devotion to the ideals of the biological sciences in classifying such planets as suitable for human beings.

Prompted by this book, I hope that they will begin to receive the acknowledgement that they so richly deserve.

Estelle Ap Solo

Grand Master, Guild of Exobiologists

Darwin’s Blueprint

Every discipline has its manual. The study of life on planets outside the Earth is no different. Darwin’s Blueprint contains writings on various scientific disciplines, known collectively as Earth sciences, which have been gathered together over the course of many centuries.

The central tenet of the Blueprint is that life follows rules and no matter where it occurs, these rules will govern the production of life forms, from the simplest to the most complex. There is a substantial section of the Blueprint devoted to hierarchies and, as one would expect, on evolution as well as behaviour, language and communication.

There is a complete version of Darwin’s Blueprint, known as ‘The Manuscript Blueprint’ on Home. If it were ever to be printed it would run to approximately 100,000 pages. Practicality dictates that most versions of the Blueprint are précis and contain about 1,000 pages.

The practitioners of the comparatively new discipline of exobiology have adopted Darwin’s Blueprint as a testament. Indeed, to many exobiologists it has the same stature as the Christian bible.

Like the life forms it describes, Darwin’s Blueprint is constantly evolving.

Book One:

Home

1.

A Surprise Picnic

The regulations said ‘wait’, so the two crewmen on the exploration ship James Lovelock waited and fretted inside the ship while on the planet’s surface, a thousand kilometres below, automated probes sucked and licked and snapped and sniffed the biosphere. At last, all the lights on one of the myriad consoles in the cabin glowed green and Murphy and Greenspan with great relief climbed into the landing vehicle that would take them to the ground below.

I wish, said Murphy, that just once they’d let us sleep until they’re actually ready to have us pay a visit.

Yeah, replied Greenspan, that’ll be the day when we’re transported to the surface on the backs of flying pigs.

Yeah, said Murphy, with resignation, you’re right.

The short, squat crewman and his nearly identical colleague had been ‘first footing’, as the preliminary exploration of new planets was colloquially known, for several decades. They knew more about each other than their own mothers and had developed a telepathic understanding normally reserved for twins. In fact, they were occasionally mistaken for brothers, because their squat bodies and swarthy Aegean looks could have been cast from the same mould.

The landing vehicle settled with a pneumatic wheeze on the surface, bounced, settled again and shivered as legs and antennae unfolded from its body.

What’s this place called again? asked Murphy, playing with a joystick that controlled one of the exterior cameras.

Greenspan referred to a much thumbed message wafer, retrieved a notation that had been misfiled and said, Er, SG598, dash 3.

The designation SG indicated that the planet was located in the constellation Sagittarius while the number simply indicated the local star was the 598th to be catalogued in that sector and the planet on which they had landed was the third in line travelling spaceward.

Catchy, muttered Murphy, although the planets they explored were nearly always unnamed. It was supposed to be one of the perks of their trade, to be able to submit a name to the Committee of Planetary Nomenclature, and then perhaps to be immortalised. They had discovered quite early in their careers, however, that their claims were often superseded by those of committee members, their husbands or wives, children, local politicians, whoever. Thus there was no Planet Greenspan or Murphy’s World anywhere in the known universe, an omission the two explorers had given up any hope of correcting.

The monitor attached to the exterior camera lost its fuzz as the dust and detritus caused by their arrival floated back to the ground.

We’ve landed in paradise, said Murphy.

Greenspan looked up from the message wafer in his hand. The monitor showed a profusion of plant life.

Panning, said Murphy in response to Greenspan’s unspoken request. The camera moved across glades laden with greenery, its lens focusing on springs of crystal clear water meandering through verdant meadows before moving on to shrubs and trees nodding in the morning sunshine. Everything that grew seemed to be in bud.

Wow, said Greenspan, the repairs to the manual forgotten. What a great place for a picnic, Murph.

But first there was business to complete. With the professionalism born of years of experience the two crewmen busied themselves sampling the local flora. Of fauna, there seemed to be little sign.

S’funny thing, grunted Murphy after four days of solid cataloguing.

Yeah, no significant animal life, said Greenspan, not looking up from where he was slicing a section of a plant stem with a laser microtome.

Greenspan slid the plant section onto a slide and placed it in the viewer. On the monitor a perfectly regular stem cross section appeared, in giant detail. Greenspan gazed at the various transport vessels stained red and green by the two dyes he’d used to stain the plant.

Dicot, he said, tapped it into the computer and tagged it with the slide’s serial number. Dicot number 6,816.

Damn waste of a lot of biomass, if you ask me, said Murphy, Several hundred thousand tonnes of plant material and nothing bigger than a gnat to eat it.

It was true. While a few insects hovered in the glades, there was no flutter of wings or trill of bird song and there was no sign that any reptile or mammal had ever patrolled the undergrowth. The soil teemed with life: worms along with bacteria and other micro-organisms broke down the dead plant material, but there was no moth to lay its eggs on the leaves, no shrew to feed on the larvae, no dove cooing to its mate, no anteater to lick the ants from under the rotting logs. It was weird.

Let’s take a trip north, said Murphy. Maybe we’ll find something when we get out of the equatorial zone.

The landing vehicle flew north at 200 metres. Murphy and Greenspan gazed out the portholes at mountains that climbed to the clouds then descended to plains, all covered in a dense blanket of plant life. As the climate grew cooler with their passage northward, the vegetation changed from sub-tropical to temperate, but its density and profusion never changed.

Paradise is boring, announced Murphy, not taking his eyes from the motion sensor that was scanning a kilometre either side of the ship. Empty, too.

Greenspan didn’t bother to register his agreement. He knocked the ship off auto and grasping the steering yoke, headed away from the single island continent that stretched from pole to pole and comprised the planet’s entire land mass, aiming for the coast. They crossed it, gold-fringed, and screamed out over the ocean.

This is fun, Spanny, Murphy said dryly. And then was riveted to the screen in front of him as the motion sensor went crazy. He adjusted the scale to react only to life forms larger than a metre in length. The screen settled down, registering blips every half minute or so.

Greenspan set the autopilot to hover a safe fifty metres above the ocean surface and walked over to sit beside his colleague.

Migration and Settlement’s going to love this place. The animal life’s all in the sea and the land is covered in greenery; lots and lots of space for settlers and their families and no hostile wildlife. We’ll get a commendation, maybe even a bonus. We really have discovered paradise.

The motion sensor registered a large blip, before settling back to its former routine.

That was a big one, Murphy said. Do you suppose there’s anything sentient in the ocean? Is there anyone down there?

Greenspan got up from his seat and stretched himself out on a sleep couch. I’ll tell you in the morning, Murph.

Murphy grunted and opaqued the portholes, bringing twilight to the cabin, but no rest to his mind.

Eight hours later, the portholes de-opaqued and it was morning. Greenspan groaned in his couch and opened an eye. It focused on his colleague who was sitting at the screen, flicking through the planet inventory. He didn’t look happy. Greenspan groaned again, "I know something’s worrying you, Murphy. And I know that you know that I know. So let’s talk about it. You make the breakfast, okay?’

Murphy didn’t look away from the screen but pointed to the small galley. There was a pot of coffee and a pile of croissants, both steaming, on the table.

Okay, let’s talk about it now, said Greenspan with resignation.

It just doesn’t feel right, Spanny, said Murphy, after two hours of solid debate, cupping both hands around his coffee mug, elbows on the table, staring straight ahead as he sorted through his instinctive messages. I can’t be specific; I just know something’s not right. The rules are being broken on this planet.

Greenspan picked up the coffee jug and placed it under the spigot for the third time since they’d first sat down. It began to spit fresh ground coffee into the jug immediately.

I don’t know that they were ever rules, Murph - guidelines sure. But this is a big universe - maybe our ecology, our hierarchies don’t work here. This place could be different, you know.

Have we, or anyone else for that matter, ever catalogued a planet that varied in any significant way from the Blueprint? Murphy paused while his shipmate scratched his chin. No, not one! he said, answering his own question.

You’re right, Murph, said Greenspan, giving in to the undeniable correctness of Murphy’s statement. Beats me how this place ticks.

We’ve missed something, Spanny. Out there, Murphy gestured to the porthole, is the answer that will confirm the rule.

At its heart, Darwin’s Blueprint was a hypothesis laboriously constructed over a lifetime by the great biologist. What James Hutton’s rules did in the 18th century for the primitive science of geology, Charles Darwin’s observations did for evolutionary biology. While the author never ventured off Earth, the rules that were the foundation for the great body of biological lore turned out to be remarkably accurate.

Life wants to occur, so it had been written, but it will always follow the rules. Thus no First Footer had ever come across a silicone-based life form. Neither did flight ever precede the gift of sight. And flowering plants never developed without abundant terrestrial animal life. Not seldom, never.

But if the land areas were bereft of animal life, the sea more than made up for it. Over the course of the next week, Greenspan and Murphy carried on with the business of describing and recording the multitude of marine life. A pattern emerged - several thousand species were divided into genera, further sub-divided into families and thus into a hundred or so orders and roughly ten classes. The hierarchical relationships were meticulously described by the two exobiologists and assigned properly obscure names that would later be considered by the various committees of nomenclature and then submitted to the scientific community. It was a process that took years. Between themselves, though, they preferred something more prosaic than the teeth-chipping names of proper taxonomy.

It’s another bouncer, said Greenspan as the net they had lowered into the depths from the belly of the ship, emerged on the surface and the creature within it proceeded to thump against the restraint. Open the net, he instructed the computer.

Belay that order!

The computer obeyed its last instruction and the net remained closed, swinging on its tether as the bouncer became more frantic. Greenspan turned from the monitor and raised a quizzical eyebrow at Murphy, Specimen?

Yeah, said Murphy. Okay?

I’ll ready the tank, replied Greenspan. He lowered an umbilical from the ship which would suck up sufficient of the ocean below to provide an environment for the creature now thrashing in the net. They called them bouncers because they had the habit of leaping out of the ocean and skipping across the surface, like a flat pebble skimmed across a lake.

Other creatures were variously wrigglers, swarmers, thrashers, frankensteins and one class of marine life whose members had the capacity to gulp in air from the surface and expand their internal cavities until they swelled like balloons and floated free. After an interval of anything up to an hour the air was released in an explosive belch and they fell back to the ocean. ‘Zeppies’, Greenspan and Murphy had named them for this ability and their cigar-shaped forms. Sometimes the wind carried the zeppies for miles. The horizon was seldom completely free of them.

Sedated and subdued, the two-metre-long bouncer floated in the specimen tank. Its saucer-like eyes, magnified by the thick plastic, looked out at the two crewmen accusingly.

Greenspan leaned back in his chair, locked his fingers behind his head and stretched.

Ahhh, that’s better, he grimaced. Murph, my boy, I believe we’re done. It’s time for that picnic.

So it was that the two swarthy crewmen opened the airlock and for the first time ventured out onto the surface of the planet. They sat astride a velo - a machine that resembled the legendary Harley Davidson motorcycle, except that the wheels were replaced by two banks of nozzles, fore and aft, that blew air at very high pressure. By swivelling the nozzles, the velo could be made to go in any direction the riders decided on.

Which way, Murph? said Greenspan from the forward saddle.

Out there, Spanny! replied Murphy from the rear saddle, pointing dramatically into the interior like some heroic explorer.

Free of the constraints of the landing vehicle for the first time, Greenspan exuberantly took the velo on a hair-raising ride at speed just above the forest floor. Wisely, he allowed the on-board pilot to actually steer the vehicle while he kept his hands lightly on the steering bars, player-piano style.

The velo looped around giant trees, banking between interlocking branches where there was no margin for error and screamed through avenues of shrubs before swooping down to hover over a clearing containing a mirror-like pool. On sighing jets,. the velo sank softly to land at the water’s edge.

Yo, whooped Greenspan, that was a ride-and-a-half!

Even the thoughtful Murphy had been excited by the ride, leaping off the velo and performing a little dance of triumph and freedom. First-footing was an exacting and gruelling marathon of identification and classification. Finishing the task felt like the last day of school.

Greenspan opened the generous panniers that were built into the fairing of the velo and began taking out plastic containers of food which he stacked on the local equivalent of the grass. This was followed by a collapsible table, chairs and a sunshade. In a few moments the glade had been transformed into a picnic spot, indistinguishable from any park on Earth.

The meal, supplied by the ship’s autochef, was a replica of similar alfresco meals that Greenspan had enjoyed as a child. He had asked for the recipes to be programmed into the autochef when they had officially taken over the James Lovelock. It contained the recipes for chocolate cupcakes, gingerbread men and peanut butter sandwiches with the crusts cut off. Greenspan’s inner child was particularly demonstrative but, thought the shrinks at the Academy, it made a nice balance with Murphy’s disciplined adult which was quite dominant in his own psychological make-up.

Greenspan was soon munching on a crisp bread roll that he’d stuffed with ham and salad. A piece of beetroot squeezed out of the roll and plopped into his lap leaving a crimson trail down his coverall.

Come on, Murph, said Greenspan, talking around the ham and salad roll, get into the spirit of things. We’re done. We can move on.

Murphy grunted and began loading a roll of his own with cooked meat and salad. He left out the beetroot, after glancing at Greenspan’s stained clothes.

Murphy worried at his roll, tearing off small segments with his teeth. Through the vegetation at the edge of the clearing he glimpsed patches of blue and gold - the sea and the beach. The soft lapping of waves drifted through the glade.

Sure is weird without birds and insects, Murph, said Greenspan, spoon poised over a waxed cup of green jelly with a covering of sugar rainbow sprinkles. You don’t notice them usually, but you sure miss ‘em when they’re not there.

Behind the two men, on the edge of the clearing, a large shrub began blooming, its flowers opening with an audible pop to reveal brilliant yellow petals. The flowers’ stamens unfurled, black filaments tipped with blue. A faint perfume drifted across the glade.

Both men turned in their chairs to gaze at the phenomenon. Murphy leaped to his feet as if stung. Goddamn it, Greenspan. Now you tell me, if there’s no significant animal life and no insects to speak of, what’s pollinating those flowers!

As if to emphasize his argument, other shrubs and trees in the vicinity began opening their own flowers. There were blooms of every shape, varying from tiny bell-like blossoms to titans two metres across. Every primary colour was present, but the dominant attractant appeared to be fragrance. Murphy and Greenspan began to feel light-headed.

Pack up the stuff, Spanny and let’s get our kits. Something’s pollinating these flowers and it sure ain’t the wind. Murphy indicated the largest blooms with a jerk of his head. A vivid green spike protruded from the centre of the flowers; it was covered in pollen grains the size of gravel. Not unless they get the mother and father of winds on this planet, that is.

Sitting astride the velo, Greenspan’s inner child intruded with a note of regret.

It’s a pity, I was enjoying myself. He then pressed the starter button and allowed the velo to rise on its air cushion. The twist grip rotated the jets and the velo moved forward toward the beach and the ship.

It was as well that the velo slowed to negotiate a particularly dense copse of rose-like plants whose branches were groaning with vermilion flowers. It barred their entry to the beach and the ship. The two biologists avoided being torn to shreds on the sharp thorns as the velo’s autopilot carefully negotiated a path around them. Instead of bursting onto the fringe of sugary sand with belching jets the velo arrived cautiously. Greenspan set it down and shading his eyes looked out to sea where the ship hovered.

Lots of zeppies today, Murph, said Greenspan, the beginnings of concern showing on his face.

There were indeed a lot of the cigar-shaped creatures, on the horizon and closer in, being blown towards the beach and the two men by a stiff on-shore breeze.

Do you think they could be the pollinators? said Greenspan again.

Murphy paused to think about it before speaking. Pollination was his specialty. Very hit and miss strategy. The breeze might blow the zeppies onto the plants, but how do you ensure that they carry the pollen load to others? replied Murphy, also shading his eyes against the sun.

They’re coming this way, said Greenspan nervously. Maybe we should get back to the ship.

The breeze suddenly picked up and the flock of zeppies put on a little aerial spurt that put them between the two exobiologists and the ship. Murphy hesitated, human instinct overriding scientific curiosity. The two exobiologists watched the zeppies float closer. At the surf line they all dropped to the water with a collective sigh, audible even above the sound of the waves and disappeared beneath the surface.

Another flock of the floating creatures appeared over the horizon. Greenspan turned to Murphy, embarrassed that he had been slightly afraid.

Let’s get our kits and get some cameras set up. You’re right - something must be pollinating those flowers. Our job here isn’t finished after all.

Murphy was still looking out to sea, his eyes flicking between the spot where the creatures had landed in the water and the new flock of approaching zeppies. Greenspan was already astride the velo. He blipped the throttle causing the machine to rise up on its air cushion and then settle. Come on, Murph, let’s make it before that bunch of zeppies arrives, eh.

Murphy turned away and began mounting the velo. As he was buckling up, something horrible crawled out of the surf and began scampering along the strand on six legs with clacking mandibles and spurred joints. It was joined by others. They looked like giant cockroaches: giant, dangerous cockroaches.

Jeez, Murph, I don’t remember classifying anything like that, said Greenspan. He pushed the throttle against the stop and the velo roared and leaped into the air. The noise and the sand blown into the air by the jets had caught the attention of the creatures. They paused for a moment to locate the source of the noise, and then began scuttling towards them. Their carapaces opened to reveal two sets of wings. As the velo took off, so did the creatures. Greenspan reacted instinctively and swivelled the jets through 180 degrees. As it was designed to do, the velo flipped in the air and took off in the opposite direction, away from the creatures, back into the jungle.

The swarm of giant, flying cockroaches fell behind and after ten minutes Greenspan felt confident enough to slow down. He brought the velo to a gentle stop above a level patch formed by the angle of fallen trees, then gently let the machine settle to the ground.

For a moment the two men didn’t speak because conversation was redundant at that point in time between the two of them. What the hell was that! How could we have missed them! We’re going to have to start classifying all over again! Damn! Those were the thoughts that passed through their minds. There was no need to vocalise them.

We’ve got to get back to the ship, said Murphy at last.

There’s no evidence that those creatures were hostile, replied Greenspan. They may have been curious.

"I don’t want to take the chance, do you? Also, we don’t know what other life forms are going to be surfing into shore. If we missed these, we may have missed several other species. Murph,