The Whale Song Translation: A Voyage of Discovery To Neptune and Beyond (20 page)

“Dmitri, don’t you remember our Molokini snorkeling trip? The boat had a glass bottom for viewing the tropical fish.”

Dmitri’s eyes glimmered. “That’s brilliant, Greg! We feed the Speakeasy images to a large, flatscreen monitor fastened to the glass and pointing down into the water.”

“You took the words right out of my mouth,” replied Greg. “There’s one small problem, however. I read somewhere that a humpback’s eyes are spherically shaped, like a fisheye lens. We won’t know if the images on the display will appear distorted to them.”

“Everybody slow down,” interjected Spelvin. “We’re possibly sliding down a very slippery slope. What about the
Star Trek
Prime Directive: Do not interfere with alien cultures. Who knows how the whales would react to bright, flashing lights, especially to shapes that dance to the frequencies of their own vocalizations?”

“God forbid,” chimed Seema. “I remember an incident in Japan a few years ago. While children watched an episode of the
Pokémon
cartoon series, some had epileptic seizures triggered by rapidly flickering images of a particular frequency. Since we have no clue about humpback brain physiology, we’d better proceed cautiously or else we could become unwitting villains.”

“The ACLU would take that case in a heartbeat,” said Andrew.

“I agree,” replied Dmitri. “We would only activate the external visual display after assessing the progress of the acoustic experiment.” After a long pause, he stood and yawned. “Let’s take our ten-minute break.”

“It’s getting too exciting to stop now,” said Andrew.

Everybody seconded the sentiment.

“Okay,” said Dmitri, sitting back down. “Greg, I’m reminded of Melanie’s tutorial in the Maui Speech Lab. She described the two modes of symbols used in written language: the pictorial form, like the Chinese ideograms, and the representational form, such as the characters of the alphabet. Intelligent beings with no physical capacity to communicate in the written format would likely adapt their acoustic symbols to express both modes, don’t you think?”

“Like the whale game where the symbols represent the placement of pieces on a game board,” added Andrew.

“Yes,” said Greg. “In hindsight, it makes so much sense that intelligent creatures, who’ve developed the symbols of language, would utilize those symbols in the playing of games. Playful behavior in mammalian species serves the dual purpose of social interaction and training for activities crucial to their survival.”

“I get goose bumps thinking about this cryptic message.” Seema’s soulful eyes panned Dmitri and Greg. “The clues to their intelligence have been waiting to be discovered for possibly thousands, maybe even millions of years. It wasn’t until humans developed a technologically advanced society that we became capable of interpreting the purpose of their vocalizations. I can’t believe we’re the beneficiaries of this golden opportunity.”

Dmitri felt a teacher’s sense of pride. “I agree, and I couldn’t have stated it more eloquently.” Seema’s big smile pleased him. “But,” he shook his index finger, “we have to proceed carefully. There’s going to be major resistance to the implications of our proposed discovery.”

“Think about the public reaction,” said Greg. “The confirmation of the game hypothesis could be viewed as a grave threat to belief systems that advocate the primacy of our species.”

“Like Creationists and Luddites,” Andrew nodded.

Dmitri sighed. “It’s not only the conservatives and fundamentalists. Don’t underestimate the pushback from rational institutions, maybe even here at SoCalSci.”

Dmitri’s comment momentarily stifled the conversation, reminding them of the events three years earlier when McPinsky had vacated the premises in a torrent of controversy.

Spelvin cleared his throat. “Right, we can’t jump the gun just yet, Dmitri. We’d be crawling out on a very thin limb to publish this ‘game’ hypothesis so soon. I’d like to see more occurrences of this data profile in other recordings before submitting it to an external review.”

“Joel, I agree,” replied Dmitri. “Let’s take a twofold approach. Initially, I’ll contact Gorman at PICES and ask for more humpback recordings. Since our discovery is linked to the Maui population, let’s restrict our investigation to the Maui song data and to Alaskan recordings during the winter feeding cycle. At the right moment, we’ll inform Gorman we’ve identified unique acoustic patterns which could be interpreted as linguistic symbols and request his assistance for experimental confirmation. We’d need PICES collaboration to provide and outfit a vessel to conduct the experiment in Hawaiian waters. Let’s not be too specific about the nature of the data, though—that it’s likely a game. We don’t want to give them any reason to think they’d be participating in a wild goose chase.”

“What about the software and equipment?” inquired Greg.

“Like I said, we’ll pack a workstation for the real-time Speakeasy analysis and two or three laptops for other functions. Until now, we’ve used Melanie’s proprietary version here in the lab. Now that we’re progressing into a more public domain of research, I want Andrew and Seema to code our own generic version of Speakeasy.”

“That’s a heck of a tough task for such a short time frame, boss.”

“Our version can be greatly simplified,” he said, trying to convey reassurance. “The primary requirement is a Fourier frequency analysis and a center frequency calculation of the two primary resonance peaks. We don’t need all of the other phoneme-specific tasks for identifying consonants and vowels.”

“Got it,” replied Andrew. “For my thesis work, I’m using a graphics routine that plots both two- and three-dimensional data, so I’ll port that over to our new Speakeasy system to work in either 2D or 3D coordinates.”

“Thanks, Andrew. What about you, Seema? Can you develop a simple synthesizer program that generates the acoustic version of the circular symbols, given any two input frequencies?”

“Absolutely, and to be consistent with Andrew’s interface, mine will also accept and generate 2D or 3D data. I’ll prototype it using Matlab and then translate the source code to a C++ app.”

“Sounds good. Oh, Andrew, let’s also incorporate Joel’s correlation-analysis codes into your version of Speakeasy so that—”

“—so that we can instantaneously assess the correlation of each new symbol to the previous one to confirm that they’re actually playing a game. I’m with you, boss.”

“Dmitri, you lucky dog,” said Greg. “I wish I had the same rapport with my grad students. But I bet yours don’t know you’ve fabricated this entire project so you can get back to Maui to see your new girlfriend.”

Despite the glances between Andrew and Seema, Dmitri looked at Greg with an unusually peaceful smile. “Actually, Melanie could be quite useful aboard the research vessel, conducting an experiment that resembles a Speakeasy session.”

“Oh, and don’t forget we’ll need SoCalSci administrators to approve the time and funding for the enterprise,” Greg said. “If I were you, I’d contact the Dean of Engineering and arrange a meeting, the sooner the better.”

“That’s a great suggestion.”

“God, I hope this doesn’t backfire on you, dude. The dean’s still steamed about his past pitched battles with McPinsky. Now, along comes Dmitri to wave the red flag of the McPinsky Challenge
in his face.”

“There’s no turning back now, Greg. Speaking of the devil, it wouldn’t hurt to have the support of other allies. Excuse me, ladies and gentlemen. I believe I’m about to place a call to my old advisor.”

D
MITRI’S
H
AMMER

SoCalSci University, Los Angeles, California—later that day

“Greetings, Professor. I’m sorry it’s been so long since we last spoke, but I have some special news I want to share with you.” Dmitri felt nearly as nervous as the first time he’d introduced himself to the famed McPinsky. Although they had exchanged pleasantries via the occasional email, it had been nearly a year since he had last spoken with his old college mentor and graduate advisor.

“Dmitri, my boy, how are you?”

“Better than ever, Professor.”

Hearing his professor’s avuncular voice on his office speakerphone brought back many, mostly pleasant, memories. As he had begun to tell Melanie, Dmitri had been only nine years old when his father had perished in a truck accident. The paternal void had been partially filled during his college years with the flowering of a most simpatico relationship. McPinsky had literally saved him during his first semester of engineering graduate school following a disastrous summer internship. Having been bullied and harassed by his manager at a prominent Northern California high-tech company, he had battled a motivational crisis and a lingering depression. He had been on the verge of dropping out of SoCalSci when his academic advisor, Professor Theodosius McPinsky, had emerged as a mentor and role model. His paternal guidance had been the tonic for Dmitri’s rejuvenation. In just three years, Dmitri had earned a doctoral degree and, after a brief, post-doctoral research appointment, had been offered a faculty position in the same department and university as his idol.

For the past fifteen years, the veteran iconoclast and the precocious protégé had been linked together both intellectually and philosophically. McPinsky had infused Dmitri’s life with a sense of purpose that transcended academic and professional goals. Dmitri felt nurtured in the Petri dish of McPinsky’s assertion that information theory is the basis of the fundamental laws of the universe and the driving force in nature. McPinsky’s declaration that the potential for transformational discovery requires the courage to pose provocative questions—questions that dare to challenge the paradigms of the prevailing world view—had stirred his passion for science.

McPinsky’s legendary tenure at SoCalSci, following an early PhD from the same institution, had generated numerous awards and patents in his chosen field of communications engineering. During those years of professional success, McPinsky had begun to see a deep pattern emerging from his investigations. These insights had culminated in the current passionate pursuit of the Unified Field Theory of Everything, based on a new Conservation of Information principle. For him, now, it was all about the big picture: the fundamental laws of nature had to explain the necessary and sufficient conditions for the evolution of all systems, from atoms to big-brained organisms.

McPinsky’s controversial teachings and participation in the annual
Symposium on
New Physics, Cosmology, and Consciousness
had provoked a backlash from the more conservative members of the SoCalSci faculty and administration. Dmitri felt, however, that the evangelical counter reaction to McPinsky’s interspecies communication proposals had precipitated his professor’s professional coup de grâce. He knew that even a whiff of public controversy was frowned upon by the elite of the university’s power structure. He had therefore not been surprised when, shortly after the proposals, a campus-wide, rumor-mongering campaign had subjected his mentor to veiled insults and outright ridicule.

Now, nearly three years later, Dmitri still felt the sting of those painful events. Although McPinsky’s position had been secured by tenure, the proud professor had apparently lost the stomach for the steady diet of unsavory slights dished out by campus critics. To the consternation of his supporters, including Dmitri, the illustrious professor had decided to pack his bags and accept an emeritus position from an Ivy League school more tolerant of its progressive faculty members. Dmitri now believed that, if the preliminary discovery about the whales could be verified, McPinsky’s reputation at SoCalSci and around the world would flourish once again.

“How are
my old colleagues at SoCalSci?” McPinsky’s voice filled Dmitri’s office. “I hope the dean is of uncommonly good cheer.”

Dmitri relished the familiar strains of McPinsky’s wry sarcasm. He had long surmised that his mentor’s idiosyncratic, sometimes lacerating, wit must have been inherited from his emigrant parents. After all, decades before the days of hyphenated names, his Russian-Jewish father, Isadore Pinsky, and Scottish mother, Tillie McBloom, had changed their surname to the whimsical McPinsky during the McCarthy anti-communist era of “Better dead than Red” hysteria.

“Those old fuddy-duddies,” replied Dmitri. “No matter what they said about you, I can tell they’re still shocked by your departure. Of course, the rest of us miss you terribly.”

He knew about McPinsky’s disappointment in students desiring only an expeditious path to an advanced degree. Only a few wanted to achieve something more exceptional from their relationship with him. Of those, Dmitri had been singularly receptive to McPinsky’s credo: “If we are to truly appreciate the world of wonder we inhabit, we must link our awareness of our daily experiences with an understanding of nature’s deep, underlying principles.”

McPinsky had expected no less from his students then he did from himself, and Dmitri had not let him down. During the somber occasion of McPinsky’s SoCalSci farewell party, he had taken Dmitri aside to confide his immense pride in his former student. He also said that Dmitri should never hesitate to contact him if he needed personal or professional support. Dmitri had cried tears of joy on the drive home, and he still remembered the occasion as the happiest moment of his adult life.