I just finished reading Solaris by Stanisław Lem (translated to English from its original Polish). I always enjoy a science fiction story with a small cast set on an alien world (hell, I wrote one)—and this book is exactly that. It’s a small crew of scientist living on an outpost above an intelligent ocean. The novel was published in 1961, which meant I forced myself to overlook the sexism to enjoy the story (something I expect in any older science fiction). Here’s a short story by the same author that covers the same themes.
The idea that we (as in humans) might not recognize an alien intelligence when we encounter one stuck with me. What might intelligence look like? If we recognize it as intelligent, would we be able to communicate?
There is plenty of potential ‘alien’ intelligence here on Earth. Consider whales. They’re clearly intelligent and ‘talking’ with each other—we have terabytes of recordings of their calls, people have devoted entire careers to try and make sense of them. But, even after all this effort, we can’t have a conversation with a whale. Primates are another example, as are crows. Even slime moulds seem to communicate (but probably aren’t intelligent, I hope).
A lot of aliens in science fiction just reflect back our humanity, they often don’t challenge us and there’s comfort in that. But aliens that are truly different provide something else that can be quite intriguing. And it might be near impossible for us to communicate with them. What if an intelligent entity communicates through smells (ants do on Earth), through touch, through some other sense we don’t possess (like altered magnetic fields, switching quantum states or something even more far out)?
The movie Arrival is a good example which is based on an equally good short story by Ted Chiang. These aliens are frightening because we can’t relate to them, not because they pose a threat. But the main character here got lucky in that the aliens could use a written language. Another example is the intelligent plants in Semiosis by Sue Burke that shape the human settlers to do their bidding.
Is Solaris, it’s clear the ocean is alive and possesses extreme complexity. Humans have tried to make first contact for decades, while during the story, the ocean finally makes their effort to communicate (maybe). The entity combs through the residents on the scientific outpost’s minds and brings to life a person each crew member feels strongly about. For the protagonist, it’s is dead wife that appears at the foot of his bed the first morning after his arrival. Clearly, this story has resonated with many people based on the multiple translations, theatre and opera productions and three movie versions (I enjoyed the 2002 version).
What if an intelligent entity communicates through smells (ants do on Earth), through touch, through some other sense we don’t possess (like altered magnetic fields, switching quantum states or something even more far out)? These make for some of my favourite stories in science fiction—these tropes have been tackled a lot and I’m debating my on take on the idea for a fourth Encoded Orbits book (don’t tell anyone that the series might continue on after the arc of the trilogy is complete).