The Crest

“What was the damage last night?” Danielle asked Fernando and Karl.

“Two sections of the Crest were breached, a few of the Antisis got in. They’re being searched for right now.”

“And the Crefor, any casualties?”

“One dead, two injured I’m afraid, and a lot of shook-up defenders.”

Danielle thought about the poor eighteen-year-olds up on the Crest. She couldn’t think of a worse place for an expressive youth than up on those lonely ramparts. Teens needed to talk, joke, and figure out who they were. In the old days, eighteen meant senior prom, sports, boyfriends, girlfriends, and hot summer days swinging on ropes over the river. Eighteen meant college, finding a job, moving away from home, the end of innocence. The Shift made everyone introverts and working on the damned Crest only exacerbated their timidity.

“What about today?”

“We’re expecting another attack tonight.”

“I’d like to show what we picked up on the electret condenser microphones last night.”

Danielle was anxious. “Can’t do it. We’ve got to get FORC secured.”

“It can wait, this is important. You won’t believe this.”

“Okay, but please make it quick Karl, I don't have time for elaborate theories,” Danielle said.

Danielle, Karl, and Fernando walked swiftly down the hall of the FORC research building to a back-room laboratory that held a bunch of plant sensory equipment, probes, sensors, cameras, electrets, and wires and modems attached to computers. Karl turned on the recording on his laptop, they hooked the computer up to a speaker.

Danielle waited while the sound came from the computer. She made out a series of rapid clicks.

Kik, kik, kik, kik, kik, kik, kik, kik, kik…

“Is that what I think it is?”

“You got it, they were talking to each other last night, not in ultrasonic, but audible. You are hearing the real thing, with your own ears.”

“Not ultrasonic or infrasonic?”

“Nope, this is the real McCoy.” He used the American expression. “The seedlings are always communicating with one another but this… this is different. Why?”

“You’re damn right it’s different, they’re having a convention out there. How do you know this is not just the regular seedling chatter? I mean yes, it’s different but what’s changed?”

“Normally, we can pick up on a click every two seconds, but this is two clicks per second.”

“It’s as if they are learning to communicate,” she said.

“Yes,” he said, stunned at her frank admission.

“Now, this is Sector 1 Doug-firs chatting that I logged tonight in clicks.” He turned on his screen and turned on the recording.

They listened, kik, kik, kik, keek, kik, kik, keek, kik, kik, kik, keek.

“Notice the same repetition but at a higher ‘keek’ sound in the middle.”

“Yes, I hear it,” she said.

“Now listen to Sector 2 Doug-firs just a few seconds later. kik, kik, kik, keek, keek kik, kik, kuk, kik, kik, kik, keek. The cohorts have the same distinct ‘keek’ sound in their reply.”

“You think they are replying to Sector 1?” Danielle asked.

“Possibly.”

“What makes you think that? They could just be responding to a threat?”

“Yes, that’s true as well, but I’m detecting something else.”

“What’s that?”

“This is sector 3 Doug-firs.” He started the recording. I’m detecting the same pattern, but listen again: kik, keek, kik, keek, kik, kik, keek, kik, kik, kik, keek. It’s as if the Sectors are learning Morse Code. A kik is a dot, and a keek is a dash.”

“You’re getting out of your lane, Karl,” she said.

“I know it is bizarre, but you mentioned that you got a warning about an imminent attack?”

“Yes, our intelligence agents in the field picked up movement last night and called it in. They report the enemy forces to be moving.”

“What time did the field intelligence crews call the report in?”

“About 1:30 last night.”

“Precisely my point, Danielle. The Doug-firs picked up the threat and started their rapid-fire communication at about that same time.”

“Good connection. Do you think our seedling cohorts can detect vibrations in the earth?” Fernando asked. “Of course, and they can communicate through their mycelial web but that is not what is happening here. Nor is it through electric pulses. I suspect they’re picking up something in the air like hormones. I mean, they react to their own hormones all the time.”

“What then? Human hormones, like testosterone?” Fernando asked.

“Let’s say they can detect human hormones, which wouldn’t surprise me. Human hormones can mimic some of the plant hormones,” Danielle said.

“What are these seedlings complaining about? Are they short of water, too much heat? What?”

“None of those things. It’s a warning, I think.”

“Karl, plants experience stress and exhibit stress, but they do not call out warnings to others,” she noted forcefully.

“Not necessarily, remember the acacia and the giraffes. It’s obvious they’ve figured out a new way of communicating.”

“What you are saying, Karl, is that not only have these plants communicated in audible, but they have also detected human hormones and communicated a warning to us humans based on those hormones? I can’t buy it. I'll need a lot of fucking evidence to believe this. I don’t even know where to begin.”

“Think about it, Danielle. Let’s say that 50 million years ago these trees communicated in audible but somehow, they lost their ability. Trees like Douglas Firs got complacent in their rainy environment. They thrived for millions of years and didn’t feel threatened… except for now.”

“And why now, why would they suddenly grow vociferous?” she asked.

“Think about it, Danielle. Think about what we’ve created. They’re surrounded by a climate Armageddon; massive numbers of species are blinking out. We have entire forests being destroyed by drought, disease, and insects. You think that these trees don’t know what the hell is going on?”

“You’re going anthropomorphic on me again, Karl. I demand evidence all the time, you know that. Don’t bullshit me.”

“Okay, sorry, look, we’ve taken the best and most resilient tree seeds and planted them here in FORC in close quarters. That’s five million of them. Not only that, we’ve attached every instrument and gadget known to mankind to monitor them.”

“You think our seedling friends think this is their last hurrah?” Fernando asked, trying to take the pressure off Karl.

“Could be they’ve figured out that they better do something before it’s too late. And remember, we’ve never had such sensitive instruments monitoring so many seedlings. Technology has strengthened our methods and our hand in understanding them.”

“Okay, let me go with your ‘end of days,’ hypothesis. How are they doing it? I mean clicking like this is a function of phloem flow and it takes massive amounts of energy to do it.”

“Maybe they learned how to do it more efficiently. Think of the seedlings as adaptable, malleable, but eager to learn, not like a mature tree. Cellulose have not covered their membranes yet.”

“So, you think that a younger generation is more communicative?” she asked.

“I do,” he said.

“I have another idea,” Fernando said. “Have you ever heard of signal transduction networks?”

“Protein synthesis in cells?” Karl replied.

“Correct. Protein vibration is at the heart of signal transduction.”

“Okay, proteins into transduction, transduction into clicks. Is that what you’re getting at?” Karl asked.

“Exactly,” he said.

“That still doesn’t explain the massive amounts of energy required to make one click,” Danielle noted.

“Maybe not, but let’s just say one seedling makes only one click per day, but in a nursery where each sector of cohorts that are genetically the same has 50,000 seedlings, that’s 50,000 clicks a day,” she said. “And if they decide to click at the same time….”

“That is what we picked up on the electrets. I’ll bet if we counted them, there would be close to 50,000 clicks in each wave.”

“Exactly, the seedlings have learned to coordinate their communication, their clicks very much like the acacia’s responding to the threat of the giraffe by pumping out ethylene gas.”

“In response to an existential threat, other humans?”

“Most likely, we picked up different signals from most of the one-hundred sectors. Do you think they’re trying to communicate with us humans, Danielle?”

Danielle’s face turned pale, she looked startled at the thought of plants communicating directly with humans. For a few brief seconds, the hardened scientific veneer of this top caliber researcher dropped, revealing her more vulnerable state. She stared at Karl for a few seconds.

“Not buying it, Karl, not yet. I need goddamn evidence.”

Just then they overheard the mortar explosions on the Crest. They rushed to protect the seedlings and secure the research facilities.