*** Mission Log: Sol 5115 ***
*** AOS – undefined ***
*** Message Received (Source: null): Yes, I agree with Starlight. It’s definitely more than just magic feedback. The machine seems to respond in some manner, though I’m not detecting anything right now. ***
*** PARTIAL COMMAND RECOGNIZED: Detect ***
*** Attempting to run self-diagnostic followed by start-up sequence ***
“Told you,” Starlight Glimmer said, trying to suppress her smugness, which she was failing miserably at.
Twilight rolled her eyes, but gave her student a good-natured smile nonetheless before turning to her own mentor who had been brought in to consult. “So do you think it’s sentient, Princess Celestia? Is it really trying to communicate? Could it be dangerous?”
“Those are all good questions, Twilight,” the tall, white alicorn answered, “questions I don’t have the answers to, I’m afraid. I can only say that it doesn’t have a magical signature of its own, and that I don’t feel any evil intent. So I don’t think it represents any danger, not by design at least.”
“That’s amazing in its own right!” Starlight exclaimed. “No magic! It’s a lifeform purely based on mechanical and electrical components.”
“We don’t know that,” Twilight replied. In an attempt to rein in her student’s exuberance and tendency to jump to conclusions, she more often than not found herself playing devil’s advocate these days. Hence why she’d insisted on bringing in Princess Celestia first to check for any dangers. “For all we know, its reactions could be predetermined. They’re not necessarily a sign of intelligence.”
“It can feel, Twilight. It called out for help.”
Twilight knew better by now than to continue arguing along this line. Starlight had convinced herself that the initial contact was an emotional cry for help, and she seemed to believe it when she said that their visitor was feeling something during certain communications. But so far, she was the only one who ascribed emotions to it. Twilight believed that Starlight believed it, but that didn’t necessarily make it true. Feelings weren’t scientific evidence, a thought that Opportunity would have likely agreed with. “What do you think, Princess Celestia?”
“It’s probably too early to tell either way,” she replied non-committally.
Starlight rolled her eyes. “Way to break the stalemate, Princess. Politicians.”
“Starlight,” Twilight hissed, admonishing her student quietly. “Remember who you’re talking to.”
Time had made her more comfortable with the Princess of the Sun, a far cry from the childlike admiration she’d held for her teacher well into her adult life. But there was still a certain base etiquette she always kept up around her. Starlight had no such compunctions, not after once having switched Celestia and Luna’s cutie marks and realizing later that she had in fact not been banished and then imprisoned in the place she’d been banished to.
Celestia chuckled quietly at the antics of the younger alicorn and her unicorn friend. “There is one more thing I’d like to try.” She raised her head and lit up her horn in an unusually bright, golden glow. That golden glow slowly began to envelop the rover.
And the rover noticed. If it had had any eyes, they would have been wide as saucers.
*** Attempting to read tau level: 0.0 ***
*** Solar Panel Efficiency: 100% ***
*** Battery Level: Full ***
*** Direct Sunlight Detected: Engaging Solaire Protocol ***
A universe away, in a backroom of JPL in Pasadena, a programmer with a sense of humor laughed. “No, really. The subroutine is in there. Not that it will ever trigger, of course. Even on the clearest day, the thin Mars atmosphere will produce some occlusion. For Oppy to read a tau level of zero, it’d have to be in space and pointed directly at the sun.”
His colleague, who had listened politely over their Asian takeout lunch, shook his head. “I can’t believe nobody caught that during code review.”
The first man shrugged. “I embedded it in the start-up routines. It’s just an IF-Statement and a couple extra lines, anyway. Nobody would look twice at it.” He sighed. “I hope we hear back from her when this storm clears, even if it’s just the standard ping.”
“Yeah, well. Here’s hoping.”
Meanwhile, deep down in the server room, on a monitor that nobody ever looked at, a message popped up and just as quickly vanished.
*** AOS – MER-B Direct ***
*** Message Received (Source: MER-B): Praise the Sun! ***
*** Status update not recognized: disregarding message ***
*** MER-B Direct – LOS ***
If Opportunity had been imbued with a sense of humor, it would have loved to send the picture it took with its PanCam in that instant back home. Upon waking to the never before used subroutine, its camera eyes popped open and its robotic arm, usually stowed in a rest position but not fully retracted and bent back at the elbow joint, raised itself up to the whirring of its strained motor in a salute to where it believed the sun ought to be.
The picture it took in that moment, had it ever been sent back to its creators, would have made glorious, not to mention hilarious, history as the first picture of alien life humanity had ever seen. Starlight Glimmer, whose ear-splitting grin and puppy-dog eyes almost filled the frame by itself, came away from it with marginally more dignity than the two princesses, whose shocked expressions and flared wings in response to the sudden movement made them look more like startled chickens than royalty.
“It’s alive! It’s alive! It’s alive!” Starlight sang for joy as she hopped around the two gobsmacked alicorns like an excited filly in circles and figure eights.
*** Recovery Complete ***
*** All systems nominal ***
*** Message Sent: Power Status – Solar Groovy ***
*** Message Sent: My battery is full, and I’m eager to explore ***