Greegs & Ladders

Chapter 2

                                                            CHAPTER 2

                                                        Where is Jupiter?

 

Arrival at Jupiter was anti-climactic.  As we arrived, we also did not arrive.  Jupiter was gone.  Missing.  Someone had left a moon-sized post-it note saying: This Gas Giant has vanished for unknown reasons. 

“Bastards!”  cursed Wilx. 

“What do you think happened?” I asked.

“Jupiter might have been stolen to be used in warfare.  Sometimes planets are used as weapons, hurled at other planets and the like.  Gas giants are frequent favourites.  They release the most amount of toxicity.  Only uninhabited planets are allowed to be used as weapons, but it's still a barbaric practice.  Stealing a planet often throws off the gravitational orbit of surrounding populated worlds.”

“Jupiter isn't uninhabited,” I said.

“Surely it is,” said Wilx.  “All gas giants are lifeless.”

“No they aren't.  Humans found life on Jupiter in 2052,” I said.

“You said nothing happened.”

“I said nothing much happened.  Something happened.  I just didn't feel like getting into the whole story.”

“Tell me about these life-forms!”  said Wilx excitedly.

“They exist body-less, like pure thought.  You see, some of the gaseous vapours floating around actually contained a mildly intelligent consciousness.  It was discovered when the vapours telepathically transmitted their collective voice into the computers.  I once heard a recording.  They talked like a weird Radio DJ.”

“How did such a life-form come to exist?”  asked Wilx.  He was enthralled and thought nothing of the curious Radio DJ comment.

 “Have you ever heard the rhetorical question 'If a tree falls in the woods and no one is around to hear it, does it still make a sound?'” I asked.

“Rhetorical nonsense,” said Wilx.

“It suggests that something only exists because a consciousness is present to experience it.  This is very true for the life of a planet.”

“Are you talking about the Life-to-Planet Totality Quotient?” asked Wilx.

“Indeed.  Based on the human discoveries on Jupiter I began to believe in the theory that an uninhabited planet does not exist anywhere.  Even a planet the size of Jupiter has at the very least a species of rudimentary Vapour-Thought.”

“And you believe the disappearance is because of this?”

“Yes,” I replied.  “The Life-to-Planet Totality Quotient says that if any planet for some reason does become uninhabited, it will have a limited amount of time to acquire or create new life before it merely blinks out of existence due to its own uselessness.  Like the rhetorical nonsense goes, something does not exist if it is not made real by consciousness.”

“You sound like Nickbas.”

“Sometimes he made a lot of sense,” I said.

“Say you're right,” said Wilx.  “Why did Jupiter disappear if it had life?”

“The Vapours must have left the planet, whether by their own will or not.”

“So this planet is just destroyed forever?”

“Not necessarily,” I said.  “One theory says that a vanished, lifeless planet does not cease to exist, but out of survival instinct gains the ability to teleport itself to a distant part of space, one where it might have a more hopeful chance of picking up some tourist traffic.”

“You believe in this theory as well, don't you?” asked Wilx.

“Yes.”

“So Jupiter is still out there somewhere?”

“It's very possible,” I replied.

“Then it's time for another quest,” said Wilx.

“To find the lost planet of Jupiter?”

“Yes...  A Quest to Find the Lost Planet of Jupiter!”

“Ok!” I agreed.  This adventure seemed more about scientific exploration than life-threatening peril, so my enthusiasm was genuine.  “How do you suggest we start looking? There's a lot of space out there.  Infinite amounts, in fact.”

“If only we had a sample of Jupiter's atmosphere,” said Wilx.  “Then all we'd have to do is set up a simple tracking beacon.”

“There used to be a whole museum filled with samples on Earth.  It was built after the 2052 mission.  But all of that was destroyed in the anti-Jupiter terrorist bombing of 2087.”

“I guess that doesn't help us out.”

“Maybe it does,” I said.  “We both know where all the garbage from Earth ended up.”

“Garbotron?” 

“Exactly.  If the Jupiter Museum was destroyed, than the remnants of it must be lying somewhere on Garbotron.  Maybe a canister of Jupiter's atmosphere has survived.”

“You really want to go back there after the horrible time you had looking for that beard?” asked Wilx.

“I know someone who can help us.  But we'll need some incentive.  You charter the ship to Garbotron while I go peruse the deep-storage.”

“Alright,” agreed Wilx, despite having no idea what I was talking about.