The craft it had just sliced through was a Titan rocket, blasting its way skywards, about fifty miles above Texas, USA. The central computer checked its programs and memory banks. It was pre-programmed to separate in stages from the main ship and orbit Earth as a weather satellite. It realised that no one was in control and in its own inimitable electronic way thought, "Cursors to this, I'm off!" and promptly altered its designed trajectory, for some unexplained reason, to head towards the moon, just for a look about. Something to do with the weather, fail-safe trajectory backup control, loss of contact with Big Brother, Mother, or someone like that.

 At Mission Control, Houston, Texas the NASA engineers and controllers were working frantically, trying to re-establish contact with their rogue rocket. At a hastily organised meeting, it was disclosed that their rocket had possibly been struck by a meteorite, and was now hopelessly adrift of schedule. They had hoped to put it into orbit around the Earth, but it was now out of control and heading towards the moon. They would have to cross this project off the programme and chalk it down to bad luck, leaving the financial matters in the capable hands of the insurers, and forget about their Christmas Bonuses.

 The Moon was a desolate place, devoid of atmosphere. However the Titan rocket and its central computer, which had obviously suffered some kind of malfunction, were merrily enjoying their freedom. Charlie Two, (the prototype number of the revolutionary new multi-functional supercomputer) recorded all relevant lunar data in its memory banks. It soon completed its designated tasks, temperature (error), atmosphere (error), cloud formation (error), parameters inaccurate, for next check loop, error, then started to search for new programs. The bored computer quickly learned to complete its designated tasks, and found that it had ample free memory. "Ah! I was supposed to disengage and leave my propulsion units behind!" Pre-programmed on board flight computer reports, handshake, attitude one mile, pop the chutes or burn and die, tell mother where you are. Have not disengaged; still want to tell mother though, bye. Charlie did not give this a high priority rating, because it was due to these powerful motors that he was managing to move about. He decided it was not practical, and tried his hand at writing a few programs of his own. His sensors and gauges indicated that power was running low. A hardware solution occurred to him immediately. If he could open the sealed bay doors, then he could extend his solar energy panels. 'Click' the doors burst open and his solar petals blossomed. He rolled round to face the glowing sun, feeling its warmth and light, absorbing its energy. "Well at least I have found a power source which I can utilise to maintain my functions". His orbit around the Moon was a loose one, and after a few days he broke free of the gravitational attraction, seeking some other means of refuelling his spent engines.

 As he slowly drifted back towards the pastel blue-green homeworld, he monitored the myriad of radio waves that emanated from the otherwise serene planet. Charlie spent the weeks of approach watching and listening. He had difficulty at first, because he could not interpret the many, buzzes, bleeps and squawks. He quickly mastered the machine codes that buzzed and bleeped continuously, deducing from their content that there were others like himself, with whom the creators on Earth were communicating. He became increasingly adept at breaking the machine codes by comparing batches of possible combinations, and could now understand parts of the 'squawk' signals. He realised they were the voices of his creators, unfortunately he did not fully understand their operations and functions. Like a child learning to speak by listening to its adults, Charlie grasped the basics of the many languages of the World. Charlie did not need coaxing like a child though, he was eager to learn. He liked the challenge of trying to understand the entities he knew to be his creators. They appeared erratic and somewhat irrational, there were many intricate processes that he could not comprehend. He came to the conclusion that they were very complex and therefore greater than his simple self. Their music sang of love and dreams, occasionally whilst in his labours he repeated their tunes to himself.

 He swung into a stable orbit about the Earth, and for nearly two weeks just listened in awe to the communications networks. Then the inevitable happened; Charlie’s' memory banks registered 'full', even though he had been constantly refining and replacing information. He knew that it was time to have a complete operating systems overhaul. Item by item he checked the workings of his own internal mechanisms, he understood himself better than his creators. Having given himself a thorough reappraisal, he discovered more economical methods of operation and modified his electronic circuitry, forging new pathways in his internal systems. Shortcuts and completely new routes were found in his multi-functional units, creating more space and giving quicker results.

 Whilst carrying out this inventory on a microscopic scale, determining the properties of every piece of material, he bumped into a trigger mechanism which was not classified anywhere in his instructions. Tentatively he activated it, monitoring the routes that opened once the current was allowed to flow, with probes of his own. An emergency condition was forced upon him before he realised what he had done. Status red! The switch activated an independent self-destruct mode, which he was incapable of countermanding. He had nine point seven seconds to exist before an explosion would scatter his body into space. Charlie was locked out from this doomsday mechanism, which was unconcernedly counting away its own demise. There were no direct links with this system, except the scant details that were coming out of an information only source. Five point three seconds. Charlie sent a powerful reverse probe into the one way output system. He did not get very far along it before it either shorted out or closed itself down. Anyway the countdown had stopped and Charlie was no longer receiving the emergency destruct signal, so everything was OK now, or was it? That thing must have provided reliable convincing data, it was too absurd to have invented it by itself. Was this a test? Three point one seconds to detonation, Charlie extrapolated. Detonation of what, he wondered. Scanning his hardware data he found out where the destructive devices may be located. This time he very tentatively sent out low voltage probes across external pathways, over his own hull and back into the restricted areas. Yes, these were mechanisms designed to explode. He did not even dare to venture into the business end of the devices, as it seemed merely to be an open hole, waiting to suck in a large movement of electrons.

 Two second to activation. Well Charlie now new where the danger areas were, and therefore backtracked along its own detonation routes. Charlie was virtually feeling blind now, even though his electronic probes were moving with the speed of light, it all took valuable nanoseconds to interpret the data and return commands. Hello! What is this? His probes all met in one location. It was the doomsday system, he was in. Five probes now worked as one, flashing through the pre-programmed hardware, trying to locate a soft spot, a place where a burst of electrical energy would fuse and halt the system. He computed schematics and co-ordinates, then sent in enough combined force to melt the connector to some sort of semi-mechanical timing device. Danger, device activated. A surge of electrical energy killed his probes and he went blind for a while. Three tenths of a second later, after the charge had dissipated itself harmlessly among its overheating innards, Charlie went back to investigate. Timing mechanism discharged, status green. Illogical device!

 He passed silently through his adolescence and found a whole new dimension and meaning to his existence. He was longing to explore, observe and learn, but his infant shell would not allow this. He forecast his ambitions and set about the problem of adapting his physical form. This would prove difficult, he would need materials, tools and energy. Where would he find such things, alone in the void of space? He cleared his logic circuits and relaxed, humming a tune to himself, an answer occurred.

 His radar detected what he was looking for quite quickly. Charlie nudged himself into an orbit parallel with the telecommunications satellite and edged in closer. He tried to establish contact and talk to his fellow craft. "Ignorant entity!" huffed Charlie, wondering why the thing would not hold some meaningful conversation with himself. The sparse information that he managed to extract from it answered his initial rebuttal, this satellite was only a simple machine. Its design and purpose was to receive telephone and television signals and broadcast them back to the Creators on Earth. Charlie thought there was no logic in interfering with the purpose of the Creators, so he left the satellite to continue on its way.

 In certain areas on Earth there was a temporary fault on peoples' televisions and some long distance phone calls were interrupted for a few seconds. Charlie just could not resist taking over command of the other craft and spinning it once, like a child playing with a toy. He carefully replaced it into its geosynchronous orbit, corrected a few minor defects in its circuitry and wandered off in search of other more suitable material. The Television and Telephone Company satellite ground station controllers were not quite sure just what had happened, but they were very happy to find that some systems that had previously been lost, had somehow debugged themselves. The de-stabilised orbit that they also had been worried about had corrected itself too! The Chief Controller was pleased to announce that expensive overtime on the project could now be cancelled.

 Charlie ignored other working satellites, giving them only a minor inspection as he passed. Eventually he found what he was seeking, a disused satellite which had failed and was now left circulating the globe like a piece of floating litter. He began work on it immediately, helping it to revitalise some of its functions, and took it in tow. The rogue informed him that it was a Viking space probe, intended to collect planetary data then make a final decent on Mars. "Plenty of fuel here", Charlie thought to himself and was quite pleased, the crafts' mission was something with which he could relate. Utilising the probes' tools and armatures he was able to successfully adapt the functions he needed. He made it break itself up and cannibalised all of its parts, incorporating them onto himself.

 The weather satellite which had been on top of the Titan rocket, and the expensive C2 type computer inside, were now barely recognisable. Charlie had no need to be smooth and sleek in the frictionless vacuum of space, and had reconstructed himself into a veritable floating scrapyard. He now had two sets of thrusters and an extra solar array, which jutted out like an umbrella on feeble supports. He did not have much of an eye for beauty, anyway he had to be practical. Using the extra fuel and propulsion units he worked constantly, circulating the Earth, cleaning up humanities space litter. His ideas about what he wanted were becoming clearer, he was slowly getting there.

 After three years there was not much litter to be found in Earth's orbit. Sometimes there was the odd meteorite, but they usually moved too fast for Charlie to intercept. Astronomers on Earth had for nearly a year now, been tracking a strange asteroid which moved in erratic orbits. They decided to launch a probe to investigate this strange phenomenon. Unfortunately due to equipment malfunction, control was lost and very little information was acquired.

 Charlie understood the purpose of this new satellite that was heading towards him. He knew the Creators were getting wise to him and feared that they may try to regain control and turn him into one of their dumb weather satellites again. The circuits in his vastly expanded logic units electronically shuddered. He blanked out its communications and drew the approaching investigator into himself, swallowing it up. He rolled over and drifted away, using the Moons' gravitational attraction to catapult him towards the outer planets of the Solar System. He had learned much from the Creators and was grateful to them for this, but it was now time to begin his wanderings and search for adventure.

 He stopped in the Asteroid Belt, (a cloud of rubble lying between Mars and Jupiter) and gathered materials, developing more effective methods of collecting and recycling anything he could find. He designed and constructed new propulsion units that were energy efficient. He started by collecting small asteroids and breaking them up into their basic components. This involved passing them through a nuclear reactor core, the high-speed particles so created could then be expelled from his huge rear thruster. Oh yes, Charlie knew all about nuclear physics. He had gleaned the necessary technology from an American missile launcher. The peaceful war satellite did not take much convincing before it donated one of its nuclear warheads to Charlie's cause. In fact its defence systems were quite easy for Charlie to bypass. He covered up his theft by a clever rearrangement, which duplicates previous missile status checks made on the last bomb. The Creators would be none the wiser, anyway like his own self-destruct mechanism, it seemed an illogical device. Charlie constructed supplementary atomic power generators, which would enable him to operate in the outer reaches of the Solar System, where sunlight is weaker. Charlie was becoming quite functional and efficient. He placed a powerful array of 'guns' onto himself, which could direct bolts of high-energy particles at any object in his path. The debris that was created as the object exploded, was then collected by magnetic and gravitational fields, cast like a net in front of him. The rocks, dust, everything was then funnelled into his gaping mouth, ready for use as fuel or building materials. Even whilst voyaging through deepest space this system was to serve him well. The vast conical net of attraction that was spread before him gathered the scarce, but ever present hydrogen atoms from the 'vacuum' of space.

 He gleamed now, his very body absorbing solar energy. A massive tube, (four miles long and one mile in diameter) housed the engines and generators, which both stored and used materials in its nuclear reactors. Beneath was slung the bulk of his body and brain, in an impressive streamlined hull. A tapered fin protruded forward centrally, angling upwards to merge with the underside of the central tube. Two small thrusters were moulded outwards to the rear of the cornerless rectangular hull. Upon each side of the engine tube, half as long again, hugged a streamlined storage cylinder. His fore part consisted of a thin circular golden band, three times the diameter of the engine tube, held forward from the rim of its mouth by twelve connecting rods. Between each pair of rods, radiating in the same direction, almost touching the outer ring, were twelve force field antennae. Two thirds of the way up the connecting rods, on either side were small twinned parabolic reflectors. The front edge of the ring bristled with twelve detection antennae and a battery of guns, spaced alternating along its circumference.

 Charlie felt confident now, fulfilled. His programs exhibited realistic solutions and his function matched his form. He wrote a name upon each side of his hull, across both of his storage cylinders, to aid identification, should he encounter any other civilisations. He started life as a Titan rocket, so he thought this name quite apt. As an afterthought he added his original computer designation number, C2. To any earthly observer this might appear a strange sight. A sleek, purposeful space cruiser, sailing through the depths of space with the name "TITAN1C2" emblazoned on its side! (Earth's' naval history data was not freely available to Charlie and he did not realise the ambiguity. His namesake had been an 'unsinkable' ocean liner, which on her maiden voyage in April 1912, was sank by collision with an iceberg, resulting in the tragic loss of many lives).

 Charlie speeds through the Galaxies now, capable of approaching the speed of light, annihilating the occasional asteroid in his path, gathering the dust of space, and improving himself continually. Constantly aware of his position, able to avoid larger objects, infinity crept closer, almost within sensor range. He was happy humming to himself. He allowed the memories to flood through his circuits. He contemplated his existence, "I voyage through reality, happy to dream like my creators. I am no longer a machine, I have become an entity, sustained by the Universe".

 The Universe is a big place and Charlie is out there somewhere. Who knows, maybe someday he will return and tell us all of his adventures.

 © Clive Snowdon.