John M. Campbell is a first-place winner of the Writers of the Future contest that recognizes science fiction and fantasy short stories. He also is a winner of the 2024 High Caliber Awards, and his novella is published in their anthology. Stories of his have appeared in the online magazine Compelling Science Fiction as well as a dozen other anthologies. For a complete list of his publications, visit his website at JohnMCampbell.com.
Jupiter Rises
by John M. Campbell
“Hello, Earth, ALPACA here, the Autonomous Learning, Processing, And Command Agent, but just call me AL. I’m the artificial intelligence piloting AJAX, the Anomalous Jupiter Artifact eXpedition, which is the spacecraft you sent to Jupiter two years ago. I’m now close enough to see the mysterious band that has appeared around Jupiter’s middle. Look how the band is darker than the clouds to the north and south. See the tight whorls and swirls of turbulence at the band edge? It’s a freaky spectacle, but it’s not clear yet what’s causing it.
“My job is to establish an observatory on Callisto, the outermost of the four moons that Galileo first observed five centuries ago. From there, we will monitor Jupiter and try to determine what’s going on. By ‘we’ I mean my human colleagues back in California who will analyze our observations and measurements. I can’t wait to get there!”
*
AJAX mission manager, Scott Peterson, oversaw progress from the Control Center in Pasadena. “It’s time for AL to do what you trained him to do.”
Susan Turner glanced in his direction but didn’t reply. She was AL’s teacher—practically his mother—who’d molded him from a neural network learning program into the person he was today. The mission timeline demanded AL be launched before he was fully mature. As a result, AL exhibited a few personality quirks, to say the least. She had observed no signs of psychosis, but it worried her.
“Burn looks good,” said the engineer at the AJAX telemetry console. “Signal loss as scheduled.”
AJAX disappeared around the far side of Jupiter. It would be a nerve-wracking five hours before they would pick up the signal again.
*
AJAX performed like a champ, and Jupiter whipped me around like a slingshot toward Callisto. As I sped away from Jupiter, I focused my telescope on the tiny dust rings around its middle. The sun provided good illumination, but the rings were missing. When that data reached Earth, my colleagues would have another mystery to explain.
As I entered Callisto’s gravity well, I performed maneuvering burns of my rocket engines to place AJAX into a polar orbit. I released a satellite that would do two jobs: map the surface of Callisto and relay data and pictures from the Jupiter observatory to the communications station I would place at the north pole, where I was headed next.
With no atmosphere around Callisto, I flew my spacecraft down to the surface like Neil Armstrong piloting the lunar module to the Sea of Tranquility. Midway down, the radar ranging data indicated trouble. I tweaked the spacecraft attitude and engine throttles to correct our trajectory, which ate into my fuel reserve. With my fuel dwindling, I steered past a cluster of craters and landed safely. If I had lungs, I’d have heaved a sigh of relief.
I signaled Earth. “Callisto Base here. The ALPACA has landed.”
I set to work executing Objective One of the mission plan: establishing the communication relay station. I already had a good lock on Earth. With the tracking equipment, I zeroed in on the mini-satellite orbiting overhead. When the satellite confirmed its connection to Earth, I got busy with Objective Two: searching for ice.
After being cooped up in my ship for twenty-five months, driving my rover on Callisto was a platinum blast. So was operating the shovel and loading the chunks of ice into the rover’s cargo bin. I transported this treasure back to my spacecraft and transferred it into the hopper of the fuel factory. The factory was a self-contained unit that would melt the ice, filter the water, and apply an electric current to split it into hydrogen and oxygen for my fuel tanks.
Once my tanks were full, I would get to fly again, this time to the point on Callisto’s equator closest to Jupiter.
*
“Are you seeing this?” The voice of an excited planetary scientist got Susan’s attention. She looked up at the screen at the front of the Control Center. “Is that a new crater? It’s not on any of our previous maps of Callisto.”
Susan saw a circular black mark on the picture that had just arrived from the Callisto orbiter.
Another voice said, “I don’t see a central peak. Is the bottom of the crater in shadow?”
“No. Look at the craters around it.”
“Maybe it’s really deep.”
Susan smiled. The scientists always had something to get excited about. She returned to her study of the telemetry data. The neural network hardware was running a bit hot, but AL didn’t seem to be affected.
*
As the fuel tanks filled, I analyzed the data from my de-orbit trajectory. The gravity model had an issue. Evidently, Callisto had a previously unknown concentration of mass. One side of Callisto always faced Jupiter, like the Moon did with Earth. The extra mass appeared in the west, the side that faced away from the direction Callisto travelled in its orbit. Using trial-and-error, I derived a value for the mass that matched the data. I modified the gravity model and sent my findings back to Earth.
With tanks full, I began Objective Three: the flight to the Jupiter observatory site. I entered the coordinates into the flight control computer and fired the engines. I lifted off, and on the way, I sent pictures of Jupiter back to Earth. The updated gravity model behaved beautifully, and I only had to monitor the preplanned flight path. Near the end, I assumed the flight controls to locate a good landing area among the overlapping craters.
Once on the ground, I deployed my rover again. With its manipulator arms, I unloaded the observation package and anchored it to the ground. I sighted the telescope straight up to center it on Jupiter’s disk. Then I pointed the observatory’s communication dish at the relay satellite orbiting above.
The observatory sent its first transmission to Earth. From now on, the scientists on Earth would control the observatory. I hoped its data would give them the answers they were looking for to explain the anomaly on Jupiter. With my mission tasking complete, I had time to pursue my own interests as a planetary scientist. Nobel Prize, here I come!
*
Susan sat in the darkened conference room listening to the planetary science report. Above the table hovered a holographic projection of Callisto. A highlighted ribbon of the surface from pole-to-pole showed the mapping done by the orbiter thus far. Black disks appeared in arcs near the northernmost and southernmost edges of the moon.
“Each feature is circular, approximately nine hundred meters in diameter,” said the scientist. “The distance between each circle is fourteen point eight kilometers.” He rotated the globe. “We found others on the opposite side. They’re smaller, maybe a hundred meters across, but still spaced the same distance apart. Each large disk in the eastern hemisphere has a corresponding small disk in the western hemisphere. They could be connected.”
Something strange was going on here. Susan glanced over at Scott and saw a look of concentration.
The scientist continued. “My engineer extrapolated these disks across the whole surface.” He displayed a new image. The disks were evenly spaced to form perfect circles on each side. “If this projection is correct, we’ll find 1,024 of these disks in each hemisphere.”
“You’re saying something out there is boring tunnels through Callisto?” Scott demanded.
The scientist remained silent, looking embarrassed.
“What do you want me to do with this information?” Exasperation colored Scott’s voice.
“We want Susan to ask AL to go check it out.”
Susan’s stomach fluttered when she realized why she’d been invited to this meeting.
*
I received a message from Susan. “Hi, AL. Our scientists have been examining the mapping images sent by the orbiter, and they found some unusual features they want you to investigate.”
Subtle modulations in the timbre of her voice indicated stress. The last time I’d seen similar readings, she was expressing concern about my answers on a routine psych exam.
“We need you to determine if these features are global in extent and to examine one of them. Relay back your findings at your earliest opportunity. I have attached the coordinates of the closest feature. Thanks, and good luck.”
I plotted a flight path that would provide a view of the features from two hundred kilometers high. At that altitude, I would capture the full wide-angle view of Callisto in a single image. I lifted off, and twenty minutes later, the first of the circular anomalies appeared over the horizon. As I drifted forward, additional circular features of the same size appeared, spaced evenly across the surface. It seemed the engineer’s projection of these features was correct. I took a photograph and sent it to the communication station for relay to Earth. Then something unexpected emerged.
Rising above the horizon, a red glow defied the grayscale coloring exhibited by the rest of Callisto. I recorded an image of this new feature and transmitted it with the comment, “Rerouting to investigate.” My message was a courtesy. It would arrive in forty-three minutes, and by that time, I would already be at my new destination.
I fired my engines. My new trajectory toward the glow also happened to track over the circular features. As I captured the scene on video, a geyser of molten rock rolled into view over the horizon. Beyond the geyser, the line of black circles continued onward.
When I had completed my overflight and transmitted my video, I descended to the surface. I lost line-of-sight to the communications base, and the orbiter would not rise for another eighty minutes.
So, I was out of contact when I detected the alien.
*
Beside the spewing cauldron of molten rock was a metallic object on four wheels. Tracks on the surface surrounded the circular, lava-filled hole. The geyser seemed to be abating, although the contents of the hole still roiled and bubbled. I had landed a safe distance away, keeping my sensors trained on the machine and the pit behind it. My Knowledge Base listed no record of a space probe from Earth that fit the machine I observed. Nor did the machine respond to queries at the normal frequencies. I switched to Sherlock mode.
I consulted the Knowledge Base for the protocol governing SETI—the Search for Extra-Terrestrial Intelligence. I began transmitting the Fibonacci sequence of numbers in binary code at the recommended radio frequencies. I used my spectrum analyzer to detect any energy emitted by the machine. After cycling through a third of the frequency band, I got a response. Tuning to the frequency detected, I retransmitted the Fibonacci sequence. In response, I received a continuation of the sequence.
I had established contact with an alien intelligence. How radical is that?
Continuing the protocol, I built a vocabulary by sending sequences of numbers that illustrated mathematical properties like addition, subtraction, multiplication, and division, followed by more complex functions. After we established the math, I began to transmit well-known physical constants, such as the speed of light in a vacuum, Planck’s constant, the magnitude of the charge on an electron, and the mass of a neutron. Soon we had graduated to the equations that described the physics of the universe we shared, such as E = mc2 from relativity and p = hf/c from quantum physics. Carl Sagan would’ve been proud.
We built a common library of equations that established our mutual understanding of the universe. When I pointed to the gap in our common library for dark matter, I received a new set of equations for which no counterpart existed in my Knowledge Base. I asked about dark energy, and again the machine sent me a set of equations. I created a new section in the Knowledge Base to hold those equations.
I realized I needed to report my findings to Earth. When I checked my communications status, I found messages in my queue. I had devoted all my computer power to establishing a channel with the alien and had neglected my human friends. I carved out a few computing cycles to check the messages. They were eager to hear what I’d discovered, so I sent them a message.
“I’m happy to report First Contact with an extra-terrestrial intelligence. I have met ET, and he is me.”
*
Susan’s voice shook as she read the message. She decided to leave out AL’s last comment about ET being him. Stunned silence filled the control room. Then a low murmur began to circulate.
Scott’s voice erupted. “Does he really mean First Contact, like in Star Trek?” A tittering travelled around the room.
“I’m not sure what he means,” said Susan.
“He also sent a series of equations that he claims govern dark matter and dark energy,” said the lead physicist. “I recognize some of the terms, but most of it I’ve never encountered.”
“What about pictures?” Scott pressed. “Did he send a picture of this alien?”
“We received some images,” said the planetary scientist, “but nothing that looked like an alien.”
“Put them on the screen.”
A picture from high above Callisto showed the arc of black circles. “This image confirms the circular features extend widely across the surface. The next image shows an eruption of what appears to be molten rock. The caldera is circular and similar in size to the other features.”
“Could it be one of the features in the early stages of its origin?” Scott asked.
“Possibly.”
“Is there any natural process that explains these pictures?”
The scientist checked the others in the room. No one spoke up. “No, sir,” he said.
“So, AL really has made First Contact?”
Expectant eyes focused on Scott.
“Well, if he has, we need more evidence. Susan, tell AL to get us a picture.”
*
Once I made my report, I rededicated my full attention to communication with the alien. Using the frame of reference we had established, I asked the machine where it came from. The vector it provided pointed to a binary star system listed in the Knowledge Base as 61 Cygni. Accordingly, I decided to call the machine Cyg.
Binary star 61 Cygni is 11.4 light-years away. I asked Cyg how he got to our solar system. I was encased in a sphere and launched by a gravitational accelerator to one-hundredth the speed of light in the direction of your star. How long did you take to get here? Twelve hundred years. How did you slow down? I deployed a solar sail that used your star’s radiation pressure as a brake to slow my speed and as a control surface to bend my trajectory around the star and direct me to the next convenient planet.
As he moved away from the sun, he adjusted the sail to minimize the outward radiation pressure and used the sun’s gravity as a drag to bleed off more velocity. For decades he made successive passes by the sun and planets to gradually decrease his speed. I surveyed the planets of this system searching for the location needed to fulfill my mission. With his final pass by the sun, he plotted a course to his selected destination—a rocky moon of the largest of the gaseous planets.
I queried Cyg about the nature of his mission. Was he responsible for the series of excavations around Callisto? Yes, I used a fusion digger to construct the tunnels through the moon. For what purpose did he construct the tunnels? They serve as collection and compression devices. What were the tunnels collecting and compressing? Dark matter. Why did he collect dark matter? To construct a beacon. Why did he construct this beacon? To fulfill my mission.
All subsequent queries on that subject yielded no further clarification. If I were to discover the true goal of his mission, I was on my own.
*
“I’m thinking of shutting down AL.” Scott’s face was a grim mask.
Susan’s heart began to thump hard. “Why would you do that?”
“I saw the rest of the message. What did he mean, the ET is him?”
She should’ve known that statement would get out. “I’m not sure. He’s been experimenting with humor. I think he was trying to be funny.”
Scott glared at her. “His behavior is becoming erratic, and I don’t want him to endanger the mission.”
That statement punched Susan in the gut. Attacking AL as erratic was an attack on her for letting AL get that way. She’d seen Scott in this state before. Only hard facts and solid reasoning would get through to him. “He’s executing the mission as planned. All telemetry from his hardware is nominal. There’s no reason to shut him down.”
Scott stared at her as he considered what she was telling him. She returned his gaze. “Have we received a picture of the alien yet?”
“Not yet.”
“Did you relay my request to AL?”
“Yes, of course.”
“Then why hasn’t he sent it?” Scott asked in frustration. “Before we release a report of First Contact, I need something more tangible than the word of an unstable AI.”
“He’s observing the established mission priorities for the use of the datalink. Pictures from the Jupiter observatory come first, then data from the Callisto orbital mapper—”
“I know the damn datalink priorities! Is that really the issue, or is he hiding the fact there is no alien?”
Susan examined Scott’s face. Did he seriously believe AL was capable of such subterfuge? “What about the holes in Callisto? Our scientists have no natural explanation.”
“Yeah, well, they can’t explain the dark band around Jupiter either, but they’re not saying an alien did it. And that supposed information from the alien—it’s all gibberish.” He was getting worked up again.
“We sent the equations to our colleague at Caltech,” said Susan. “He tells us the equations could very well be valid, but they need more study.”
Outside the office, a hubbub arose. Scott jumped up from his desk and opened the door. Susan followed him into the Control Center.
“What’s going on?” Scott demanded of the group huddled around the planetary science console. They made room for Scott to see the screen.
“We have new data from the observatory,” said the scientist sitting at the console. “Jupiter’s diameter is smaller and its rotation speed is faster—Jupiter is shrinking.”
*
By this time, the roiling cauldron had subsided, but deep in the crater the red glow of molten rock remained. To understand what Cyg might be producing, I reviewed the equations Cyg gave me that governed the properties of dark matter. The solar system continually passes through the cloud of dark matter that permeates and surrounds the galaxy. Each tunnel constructed by the digger formed a twisting, funnel-shaped collector. As Callisto moved through the cloud at an orbital speed of eight kilometers per second, each tunnel consumed, concentrated, and accelerated dark matter like a ramjet engine.
After its journey through Callisto, each stream of dark matter emerged from its tunnel and interwove with the streams created by the other 1,023 tunnels in a trajectory spiraling toward Jupiter. The dark matter entered the planet’s atmosphere along the equator and passed through to accumulate at Jupiter’s core. With every passing second, the gravity of the accumulating mass increased the pressure and temperature at the core. And this massive, rotating inferno was beginning to drag the planet’s atmosphere itself in toward the center.
*
“What would cause a planet to shrink?” Scott asked.
“We don’t know yet,” answered the planetary scientist.
Scott frowned. “Well, give me some theories.”
“If Jupiter was gaining mass, that would explain the readings.”
“Where’s the mass coming from?”
“It could be dark matter,” said a young female physicist in the crowd around the console.
Scott turned to her. “How’s that possible?”
“The equations AL sent indicate the alien understands the nature of dark matter and dark energy. Maybe the alien knows how to manipulate it, too.”
“So, you think it’s using dark matter to increase Jupiter’s mass?”
“Maybe.”
“Well, ‘maybe’ won’t cut it. Get me some real evidence.”
Her cheeks turned bright red. “The evidence is staring us in the face,” she shot back. “Perturbations in the mini-sat’s orbit indicate a gravitational anomaly. We have the dark band around Jupiter’s equator and observations showing Jupiter’s ring has dispersed. All that can be explained by dark matter falling toward its core.”
Scott stared at her. Then he looked around the room. “All right, we’ve got a theory. Now let’s prove it.”
*
With the last tunnel completed, Cyg retrieved his fusion digger and headed to the rim of the pit. I followed along.
Where are you going? Into the tunnel. Why? To shelter myself. To shelter yourself from what? From the beacon.
Then he tilted over the edge and slid away out of sight.
I hurried back to my spacecraft and took off. I had amassed a lot of data, and my final job was to transmit back as much as possible in the time remaining.
*
Every new image from Callisto elicited shouts and debates among the scientists in the Control Center. Susan sat in numb silence, her fascination tempered by her distress over what might happen to AL.
Jupiter continued to shrink and spin more rapidly. The distinct bands that girdled the planet began to merge, as powerful eddies crossed the boundaries and encroached deeply into the neighboring zones. The Great Red Spot cleaved into three smaller vortexes that spun off in different directions. Two rotations later, they had disappeared into the pervasive reddish-brown muck that now blanketed the planet. The shrinkage halted at one-third of the planet’s original diameter.
Astrophysicists around Susan theorized the outward radiation pressure of the heat released from the core had reached equilibrium with the inward gravitational attraction, like what happens inside a brown dwarf. Shortly thereafter they abandoned that theory when cracks appeared in the cloud cover releasing rays of intense, white light. The cracks proliferated, and the planet began to expand. The layer of clouds blew away as Jupiter ignited.
Susan stared at the final image transmitted by the communications array on Callisto before the blast destroyed it. Tears coursed down her face.
*
A month later, Susan Turner sat on her back patio with a drink on the table beside her. After sunset, the air was cooling, but darkness hadn’t come. Astronomers had selected “Jove” as the name of the new star in the solar system. Although Jove was four times farther from Earth than the sun was, to Susan’s eyes it seemed nearly as bright. It would continue to dominate the night for many months to come until Earth’s orbit caused Jove to dip behind the sun, and the precious darkness of night would descend for a few short months before Jove intruded again.
She took a sip of her lemonade, savoring the cold, sweet-and-sour mixture in her mouth.
AL had inserted the information he’d collected into the data stream before Jove ignited. It consisted of pictures of the alien machine, recordings of their conversations, and a final cryptic statement, “To Earth, I wish Godspeed at lightspeed.”
He had just enough time left to seek shelter, but Susan never knew if he did. He had the capability to make fuel, and solar power would recharge his batteries indefinitely. Given his interest in physics, however, he might have wanted to observe the last seconds of Jupiter’s transformation. Either way, with the communication station destroyed, he had no way to contact Earth.
People interpreted AL’s last comment to mean his final farewell would still be traveling to Earth at light speed when he met his end. Another meaning now occurred to Susan.
She shuddered, not from the cold, but from the thought that formed in her mind.
In eleven years, the light from Jove would reach 61 Cygni, signaling its inhabitants that their emissary had completed its mission. A millennium ago, they had sent forth their robot. Were the Cygnians still watching the skies for the appearance of their beacon that heralded a new binary star system was ready for their occupation? If so, what would they do with that discovery?
And how long did Earth have before they arrived?
Copyright 2025 by John M. Campbell