Imagine looking up at the night sky and knowing that humanity has the power to move entire stars across the Galaxy. This concept isn’t pure fantasy. A future technology could move stars using stellar engines. This hypothetical megastructure enables an advanced civilization to harness the energy of its parent star and even guide its solar system to a safer or more hospitable region of the cosmos.
But why would anyone want to move a star? The universe is dynamic and often dangerous. Stars are vulnerable to gravitational interactions, nearby supernovae, and even the slow drift through the Galaxy’s regions of varying radiation levels. Stellar engines offer a tantalizing vision of cosmic-scale problem-solving, where intelligent beings could shape their fates on an interstellar stage. For us on Earth, these ideas stretch the limits of imagination and raise intriguing questions about our future in the universe.
What Are Stellar Engines?
At their core, stellar engines are large, theoretical structures intended to control a star’s energy output or even move the star itself. These megastructures stem from speculative science and astrophysics, providing solutions for considerable problems in space and revealing great possibilities for advanced civilizations.
To grasp stellar engines, it’s helpful to consider the Kardashev Scale, which measures a civilization’s technology based on energy use. A Type II civilization can use all the energy from its star. Stellar engines go beyond this by allowing the civilization to influence the star’s movement and behavior.
Stellar engines are linked to megastructures like Dyson Spheres, which are large shells or groups of satellites that surround a star to gather its energy. Unlike just collecting energy, stellar engines also have systems that use that energy for movement. This means they are energy sources and tools for navigating the Galaxy and ensuring survival.
Though purely theoretical at this stage, stellar engines are fascinating because they represent the ultimate fusion of science and engineering. They challenge us to think big, not just in terms of individual planets or solar systems, but in the ability to reshape the Galaxy. By studying these ideas, we gain insight into the limits of technology and the ingenuity needed to transcend them.
How Do Stellar Engines Work?
Stellar engines work by harnessing the immense energy output of a star and redirecting it for specific purposes, such as propulsion or power generation. While the exact mechanisms remain speculative, scientists and theorists have proposed several designs that outline how these structures work. Here are the primary types of stellar engines:
Shkadov Thruster.
The most straightforward and widely discussed stellar engine design, the Shkadov Thruster, uses a giant, reflective mirror to create an imbalance in a star’s radiation pressure. Reflecting light asymmetrically generates a small but continuous thrust that can slowly move the star and its solar system over millions of years. Think of it as a colossal cosmic sail.
2. Kardashev – Dyson Engine
This concept involves constructing a Dyson Sphere or Dyson Swarm around a star to capture its energy. A part of this energy is then redirected to power propulsion systems, effectively turning the star into a galactic engine. This design emphasizes energy efficiency and control, offering mobility and a near-limitless energy supply for the civilization operating it.
3. Caplan Thruster
A more modern and complex design, the Caplan Thruster, introduces active intervention. This system would collect hydrogen and helium from the interstellar medium or the star itself and use fusion reactions to create plasma jets. These jets would push against the star, generating propulsion. The Caplan Thruster represents a significant step toward controlled and directional stellar movement, but it requires advanced technology and precise engineering.
Each design has challenges, from material requirements to energy management and sheer scale. For instance, building a reflective surface or a Dyson Swarm large enough to enclose a star is far beyond humanity’s current capabilities. Nevertheless, these ideas offer a blueprint for what might one day be possible for civilizations millions or billions of years ahead.
Stellar engines also highlight the delicate balance between ambition and practicality. Even with advanced technology, the energy needed to move a star is astronomical—yet the slow, steady movement enabled by these engines could allow civilizations to adapt to long-term cosmic threats and opportunities.
Why Move a Star?
The idea of relocating a star may seem excessive or unnecessary, but there are compelling reasons why an advanced civilization might consider such an effort. Here are some key motivations:
Avoiding Cosmic Hazards
The universe is filled with potential threats that could endanger a star system’s habitability. Supernovae, gamma-ray bursts, or even rogue black holes pose existential risks. A stellar engine could allow a civilization to move its star system away from dangerous regions of space, ensuring long-term survival.
2. Optimizing Habitability
Over time, stars naturally evolve and change, impacting the habitability of their surrounding planets. For instance, a star may brighten as it ages, potentially rendering its planets too hot for life. A stellar engine could help keep the optimal distance between a planet and its star, prolonging the system’s habitability.
3. Galactic Colonization
As civilizations expand and seek new frontiers, stellar engines could allow entire star systems to migrate to regions with abundant resources or less competition. This would aid interstellar colonization on a massive scale, allowing a civilization to thrive across the Galaxy.
4. Escaping Dying Galaxies
In the distant future, galaxies may face challenges such as reduced star formation or gravitational interactions that lead to destabilization. Moving stars to more active or stable regions could guarantee the longevity of a civilization’s energy sources and resources.
5. Creating Custom Galactic Trajectories
Advanced civilizations might engineer their star systems’ trajectories to explore specific regions of the Galaxy, join in cosmic-scale projects, or even form alliances with other civilizations. Stellar engines would supply the mobility necessary for such strategic decisions.
While these motivations are speculative, they highlight the strategic thinking that might drive a civilization’s pursuit of stellar engines. These megastructures are not merely survival tools but instruments of cosmic exploration, adaptability, and ambition. For humanity, even considering such possibilities challenges us to rethink our place in the universe and inspires a future of limitless potential.
Challenges And Realities
While the concept of stellar engines sparks the imagination, the challenges of building such colossal structures are daunting. These challenges remind us that stellar engines, though theoretically possible, remain firmly in the realm of speculation due to technological, logistical, and ethical barriers. Here are some of the most significant hurdles:
Energy Requirements
Moving a star involves manipulating an astronomical amount of energy. For instance, generating the thrust needed to shift the Sun would need far more energy than humanity now produces or could produce with foreseeable technology. Even harnessing a small part of a star’s energy for propulsion is monumental.
2. Material Limitations
The materials needed to construct structures as massive as a Dyson Swarm or a Shkadov Thruster must withstand intense radiation, extreme heat, and the gravitational forces near a star. Developing these materials would be a prerequisite to any stellar engine project.
3. Time Scales
Even with advanced technology, moving a star would take thousands, if not millions, of years. This requires planning and long-term thinking far beyond what humanity has ever achieved. Focusing on such projects over vast periods would be essential for civilizations capable of stellar engines.
4. Engineering Complexity
The scale and precision needed to build and run a stellar engine are unprecedented. Coordinating the construction of a Dyson Sphere or directing a Caplan Thruster would need breakthroughs in robotics, artificial intelligence, and space logistics.
5. Ethical Considerations
Using stellar engines would have profound implications for any planets or systems affected by a star’s movement. Disrupting the orbits of neighboring systems or causing ecological harm would raise serious ethical questions. Advanced civilizations must balance their ambitions with a commitment to minimizing damage.
6. Risk of Failure
The risks linked to such projects are immense. A miscalculation in energy output or propulsion could destabilize an entire solar system, potentially threatening any civilizations or ecosystems reliant on that star.
Despite these challenges, stellar engines represent the pinnacle of speculative engineering—a testament to the ingenuity and ambition of intelligent life. Exploring these ideas pushes the boundaries of what we consider possible and inspires us to prepare for a future that may one day include cosmic-scale projects. Whether or not humanity ever builds a stellar engine, pursuing such knowledge is a vital part of our journey to understand the universe and our place within it.
Conclusion
Stellar engines are more than just a speculative idea; they are a testament to the boundless potential of intelligent life to reshape the universe. These concepts challenge us to think on scales far beyond our current technological capabilities and inspire us to dream of a future where humanity can wield the power of the stars themselves.
While the challenges of constructing such megastructures are immense, exploring their possibilities encourages innovation and long-term thinking. They remind us that our journey as a species is not confined to the Earth or even the solar system but tied to the vast expanse of the cosmos. By considering the engineering, ethical, and logistical hurdles of stellar engines, we take steps toward understanding what it means to be a genuinely interstellar civilization.
The dream of moving a star—or even shaping the Galaxy—represents science and imagination’s ultimate fusion. Though we are far from realizing such feats, pursuing these ideas can push the boundaries of our knowledge and fuel our aspirations. As we stand on the brink of incredible technological advancements, the question is no longer whether we can dream big but how those dreams might become reality someday. Stellar engines remind us that the universe is not just a backdrop to our existence but a playground for innovation and discovery. They urge us to embrace a cosmic perspective, where the limits of what we can achieve are defined only by the scope of our imagination and the courage to act upon it.
Through the lens of stellar engines, we glimpse a future where humanity transcends its terrestrial origins to become a force of creativity and adaptation on a galactic scale. This vision challenges us to build the tools and technologies needed.
If you’ve ever dreamed of traveling beyond the Solar System and exploring the Universe, you’re certainly not alone. Humanity hasn’t yet realized the technology for interstellar travel as it’s often depicted in science fiction tales. However, we can still journey through the stars vicariously through the wonders of literature. Lose yourself in the pages of classic space exploration stories and modern sagas that push the boundaries of what’s possible. Diverse in scope and style, these works range from the scientifically grounded to the wonderfully speculative.
In a previous post, I explored the science behind the most popular interstellar propulsion methods, some highly speculative, that could allow humanity to journey to the stars. These methods stir the imagination and stretch the limits of our perceived possibilities. Now, I’ll present a famous novel for each of these methods, where the narrative is based, at least in part, on space travel using such drives. Additionally, I’ll summarize two popular novels that cover interstellar distances using technologies not discussed in the earlier post: the Alcubierre Drive and cryonics, or suspended animation.
(1) Alcubierre Drive
The Alcubierre drive, also known as a warp drive, is a speculative concept proposed by Mexican theoretical physicist Miguel Alcubierre in 1994. It involves creating a “warp bubble” that contracts space in front of a spacecraft and expands space behind it, allowing the spacecraft to travel faster than light without violating the laws of physics.
The science fiction series Star Trek popularized the concept of a warp bubble called a “warp drive.” Scientists have proposed various theoretical frameworks. Yet, the warp bubble concept is linked with significant challenges and limitations. One major obstacle is the need for exotic matter with negative energy density, as in the case of creating wormholes. The energy requirements for creating and sustaining a warp bubble are immense. It requires amounts of energy far beyond our current technological capabilities.
Fig.1: Argus Station, as described in the three novels of the Owner trilogy. The station’s hub is a recycled ion-propelled starship, which, in the third novel, The Jupiter War, is equipped with an Alcubierre (or Rhine) Drive. I made the image using Midjourney AI.
Neal Asher’s The Departure is the inaugural novel in the Owner Trilogy. It is set in a dystopian future where Earth’s overpopulation has led to severe resource scarcity and oppressive governance by the authoritarian Committee. The elite lives in luxury, while the majority, deemed “Zero Asset” citizens, endure harsh conditions under constant surveillance by mechanized enforcers. The story follows Alan Saul, who awakens in a crate en route to the Calais incinerator with fragmented memories and a burning craving for vengeance against his tormentors. Aided by Janus, an AI implanted in his brain, Saul becomes a formidable adversary to the Committee, aiming to dismantle their tyrannical regime.
In the novel, the Alcubierre drive is called the “Rhine Drive,” named after the character Jasper Rhine, who developed it. The term “Zero Point” in the series alludes to the zero-point field linked with this propulsion method. While The Departure introduces these concepts, the following books in the Owner Trilogy, Zero Point and Jupiter War, delve deeper into the development and implications of the Rhine Drive and related technologies. These novels explore the challenges and possibilities of faster-than-light travel within the series’ Universe.
Fig.2: The ‘reefer unit’ containing Captain Brannigan’s corpse, as described in the novel Revelation Space by Alastair Reynolds. I made the image with Midjourney AI.
In Revelation Space (2000) by Alastair Reynolds, the concept of ‘reefer sleep’ is used to halt the aging process by freezing some of its characters as they embark on a quest across the cosmos to discover the secrets of an ancient civilization. All while dealing with the practical and psychological implications of extended cryosuspension.
The novel intricately weaves elements of space opera with hard science fiction. The story is set in the 26th century amidst a universe populated by decaying civilizations and dormant mysteries. It primarily follows the journey of Dan Sylveste, an archaeologist obsessed with uncovering the truth behind the ancient Amarantin civilization, whose sudden extinction puzzles scientists.
Sylveste’s quest is further complicated by the arrival of the spaceship Nostalgia for Infinity, captained by the enigmatic Ilia Volyova. She and her crew seek Sylveste’s skill to save their captain, whose life is threatened by a peculiar virus that turns him into a cybernetic entity. As they traverse the galaxy, uncovering ancient alien technologies and confronting dangerous conspiracies, they unearth the terrifying revelation that the extinction of the Amarantin is not an isolated event but part of a broader cosmic catastrophe.
Fig.3: A generation ship. I made the image using Midjourney AI.
Orphans of the Sky is a pioneering work of science fiction. It was first published as two connected stories in 1941 before merging into a single novel. The story unfolds on the ‘Vanguard,’ a generation ship launched from Earth intended to colonize a distant planet. Over the centuries, the ship’s original mission is forgotten, and its enclosed society regresses into a feudal system, with the inhabitants unaware they are aboard a spacecraft.
The protagonist, Hugh Hoyland, is a young man from the lower decks who becomes aware of the ship’s true nature through a series of events. Captured by the ship’s ruling class, the Scientists, Hugh is educated and eventually realizes the vast structure he inhabits is moving through space. This revelation shatters the mythologies and superstitions that have developed among the ship’s population, who believe the Universe consists only of the ship’s interior.
Hugh’s journey of discovery leads him to try to convince others of the truth. He faces significant resistance from those in power who fear change and from a populace incapable of grasping the reality of their situation.
Fig.4: A generation ship built in the style of a Stanford Torus. I made the image using DALL-E AI.
Aurora was published in 2015. The story follows the journey of a generation ship—built in the style of a Stanford Torus—to Tau Ceti to start a human colony. The ship’s artificial intelligence serves as the primary narrator.
The ship is launched from Earth in 2545 at 0.1 c (i.e., traveling at 108,000,000 km/h or 10% the speed of light) and includes twenty-four self-contained biomes and an average population of two thousand people. One hundred sixty years and approximately seven generations later, it is beginning to decelerate into the Tau Ceti system to colonize a planet’s moon, an Earth-like world named Aurora.
Devi, the ship’s de facto chief engineer and leader, is concerned about the ship’s decaying infrastructure and biology: systems are breaking down, each generation has lower intelligence test scores than the last, and bacteria are mutating and evolving faster than humans. She tells the ship’s AI (named ‘Ship’) to keep a narrative of the voyage.
After having trouble understanding the human concept of narrative, Ship eventually elects to follow the life of Devi’s daughter, Freya, as a protagonist. As a teenager, Freya travels around the ship on her wanderjahr. She learns that many of its inhabitants are dissatisfied with their enclosed existence and what they perceive as a dictatorship. Movement is strictly limited for most people, reproduction is tightly controlled, and education in science and mathematics is mandatory. Freya’s wanderjahr comes to an end when she is called home as Devi grows sick from cancer and dies.
The ship arrives in the Tau Ceti system, and the crew settles in Aurora, a moon of Tau Ceti e. It soon becomes clear that extraterrestrial life is found in the form of primitive prions, which infect and kill some of the landing parties. All except one of the remaining settlers try to return to the ship, and some of those remaining onboard kill them in the airlock to keep quarantine, leading to a violent political schism. ‘Ship,’ which has been moving towards self-awareness, takes physical control of the situation by lowering oxygen levels and separating warring factions, referring to itself as “the rule of law.”
It then reveals to the crew that two ships were initially launched for the Tau Ceti expedition. Still, the other was destroyed during severe civil unrest, and the collective memory of that event was erased from the historical records. In the end, a more peaceful debate occurs between the inhabitants about what to do now that Aurora is known to be inhospitable.
Fig.5: The Hermes spaceship as described in the novel The Martian. I generated the image using DALL-E AI.
The Martian by Andy Weir is an excellent example of a science fiction novel where an interstellar spaceship is driven by ion propulsion. Although The Martian primarily focuses on Mars colonization and survival, it features the Hermes spacecraft, which uses ion propulsion for its journey between Earth and Mars. While not interstellar in the strictest sense, the detailed depiction of ion propulsion in space travel within our solar system provides a realistic glimpse into how such technology might be used for longer interstellar voyages in the context of science fiction.
Fig.6: The Canterbury space station as described in the novel Leviathan Wakes. It was a retooled colony transport propelled by an ion engine. The Canterbury had hauled millions of people to the moons of Jupiter and Saturn. I made the image using DALL-E AI.
For a more interstellar focus, consider Leviathan Wakes by James S.A. Corey, the first book in The Expanse series. While the series doesn’t exclusively focus on ion propulsion, it does feature a realistic space travel technology (called Epstein Drive) within a future where humanity has colonized the solar system. Ships in The Expanse use a form of efficient propulsion that, while not always explicitly labeled as ion propulsion, is reminiscent of current and theoretical space propulsion technologies, including aspects of ion drives for long-distance travel.
Fig.7: The starship Leonora Christine as described in the novel Tau Zero by Poul Anderson. The ship has scoopfield webs that make her look like an enormous spider. I made the image using DALL-E AI.
Tau Zero by Poul Anderson (1970) is a classic space opera that takes readers on an extraordinary journey through space. The story unfolds aboard the starship Leonora Christine, a vessel on a mission to explore distant stars. However, a catastrophic malfunction in the ship’s Bussard ramjet drive leaves the crew facing a tough challenge.
As the ship accelerates uncontrollably, nearing the speed of light, relativistic time dilation comes into play. While mere weeks pass for the crew, centuries elapse outside the accelerating vessel. The novel brilliantly explores the psychological and societal implications of time dilation as the crew realizes they may never return to Earth.
Anderson skillfully weaves hard science fiction concepts into the narrative, detailing the crew’s attempts to adapt to relativistic physics. The crew’s interpersonal dynamics evolve, and the story delves into the human condition in the face of isolation and the inevitable passage of time.
The novel combines scientific rigor with a sense of wonder, creating a compelling exploration of both the vastness of space and the depths of the human spirit. Tau Zero stands as a timeless work in the genre, inviting readers to contemplate the implications of relativistic travel and the resilience of the human species in the cosmos.
Fig.8: The view from the main lounge of King David’s Starship as described in the novel by Jerry Pournelle. I made the image using DALL-E AI.
King David’s Spaceship was first published in 1980. Pournelle, known for his contributions to military science fiction, creates a narrative combining space opera elements with a focus on political and strategic maneuvering.
Set in a future where Earth has a vast interstellar empire, the story revolves around Falkenberg’sLegion, a military force that maintains control of distant planets. When a rebellion on planet Gram is suspected, the Empire sends in a force led by Captain Rick Galloway to quell the uprising.
The Empire had a strict policy against interstellar warfare, so Galloway must find a way to subdue the rebellion without violating these rules. King David’s Spaceship is a tale of strategy, diplomacy, and military action in an interstellar setting.
The novel envisions spacecraft equipped with antimatter engines that harness this annihilation energy for propulsion. By carefully controlling and directing the release of energy, these ships achieve the necessary thrust to travel vast distances across interstellar space.
Fig.9: The starship Dawn Tread, described in the novel Anvil of Stars by Greg Bear. I made the image using Midjourney AI.
Anvil of Stars is a science fiction novel by Greg Bear. It is a sequel to his earlier work, The Forge of God, and was initially released in 1992.
A few survivors embark on a vengeance mission after Earth’s destruction. Enigmatic beings known as “The Benefactors ” send them on a quest to locate and eradicate “The Killers,” the civilization responsible for Earth’s demise. The Benefactors’ Law mandates the “Destruction of all ETIs (ExtraTerrestrial Intelligences) responsible for or linked to the manufacture of self-replicating and destructive devices.”
The novel primarily follows the perspective of Martin Gordon, also known as Martin Spruce, who is the son of a central character from The Forge of God. Martin leads a group of survivors who have adopted an on-ship culture inspired by Peter Pan. They aim to track down the elusive Killers and bring them to justice.
The propulsion method of the starship called Dawn Tread is one of the novel’s fascinating aspects, showcasing Bear’s integration of advanced science fiction concepts. The starship utilizes advanced propulsion technologies, including manipulating gravity waves and using “Knots,” essentially quantum singularities. These Knots allow the ship to manipulate spacetime for faster-than-light travel, effectively enabling the crew to traverse vast interstellar distances in a relatively short period. This method of propulsion is not just a means of transportation; it’s integral to the narrative, reflecting the novel’s exploration of high-concept science fiction and the ethical dilemmas of wielding such profound technological power.
Fig.10: The light sail used by the alien spacecraft The Mote as described in the novel The Mote in God’s Eye by Larry Niven and Jerry Pournelle. I made the image with Dall-E.
The Mote in God’s Eye, co-authored by Larry Niven and Jerry Pournelle, was first published in 1974. This classic science fiction novel is set in the distant future within the expansive CoDominium universe. The story begins with the discovery of an alien spacecraft near the star Murcheson’s Eye, which humans nickname “the Mote.” This discovery leads to the first contact between humans and an alien species, the Moties.
The novel centers around the crew of the Imperial battlecruiser MacArthur, including Captain Roderick Blaine, anthropologist Sally Fowler, and scientist Renner, among others. They are tasked with investigating the Moties, who initially appear to be a peaceful and technologically advanced species. However, as the human crew learns more about the Moties, they uncover a dark secret: the Moties are trapped in a relentless cycle of overpopulation and societal collapse, driven by their biology and social structure.
The Moties are divided into specialized castes designed for specific tasks, from engineers to diplomats to warriors. This specialization has allowed them to develop advanced technology and limits their ability to adapt and innovate. As the human characters grapple with their discovery’s ethical and strategic implications, they must decide whether to help the Moties break their cycle or quarantine them to prevent potential threats to humanity.
The Mote in God’s Eye is a richly detailed narrative that explores themes of first contact, the consequences of technological advancement, and the moral dilemmas inherent in interactions between vastly different civilizations. The novel is celebrated for its intricate plot, well-developed characters, and thought-provoking examination of alien and human societies.
Fig.11: An underground hangar on Mercury where the Sunships are getting ready to explore the Sun’s atmosphere, as described in the novel Sundiver by David Brin. Image made by the author with Dall-E.
David Brin’s novel Sundiver, first published in 1980, is a fascinating science fiction tale set in a future where humanity has discovered that advanced alien civilizations “uplift” pre-sapient species to full sentience. The story follows Jacob Demwa, a human in an investigative team exploring the Sun. This team is part of an Earth-based organization known as the Sundiver Mission. Their task is to study strange entities observed within the Sun’s chromosphere, which may be linked to alien civilizations.
The novel delves into the complexities of interspecies politics, the ethics of genetic manipulation, and the existential quest for understanding one’s place in the cosmos. Demwa, a skilled biologist and diplomat, becomes embroiled in a mystery involving these solar entities, leading to a thrilling adventure combining hard science fiction and detective story elements. Throughout his journey, Demwa confronts political intrigue, the challenge of self-discovery, and the profound implications of humanity’s interactions with more ancient and advanced races.
Concerning propulsion, Sundiver features advanced spacecraft that use various futuristic propulsion techniques. The ships can dive into the Sun’s atmosphere, suggesting the use of sophisticated shielding technologies and propulsion systems that can withstand extreme heat and radiation. These include magnetic fields for protection and plasma-based engines for maneuvering within the Sun’s intense environment. The novel imagines these ships utilizing the Sun’s vast energy, harnessing solar power in ways far beyond current technological capabilities, showcasing Brin’s visionary take on space exploration and technological advancement.
In Carl Sagan’s novel Contact, humanity receives a detailed blueprint of a complex machine through a mysterious radio message from outer space. The blueprint, seemingly sent by an advanced extraterrestrial civilization, presents a technical challenge of immense proportions. After extensive international collaboration and overcoming several political and scientific hurdles, the Machine is built.
The Machine is an enormous, intricate spacecraft designed to carry a crew of five individuals through a series of wormholes or tunnels in space-time, allowing them to traverse vast interstellar distances almost instantaneously. The Machine’s structure includes a series of concentric rings, which spin at high speeds to generate artificial gravity and stabilize the craft. At the heart of the Machine is a sophisticated quantum computer, which controls its operations and ensures the safe passage of its occupants.
Once constructed, the Machine is stationed at a remote location, heavily guarded and under strict observation. The crew, composed of scientists and engineers from various countries, undergoes rigorous training to prepare for the unprecedented journey. When activated, the Machine creates a dazzling light show and immense gravitational waves, signifying the opening of the wormholes. The journey through these tunnels is disorienting and surreal, with the travelers experiencing strange and otherworldly phenomena.
Upon their arrival at their destination, the crew encounters a simulated environment designed by the sending civilization to make first contact more comprehensible. The Machine’s mission reveals profound insights into the nature of the Universe and humanity’s place within it, raising fundamental questions about existence, intelligence, and the future of human civilization.
Fig.13: One of the starships built to travel through wormholes and maintained by child workers as described in The Algebraist. I made the image using Midjourney AI.
The Algebraist (2004) is a science fiction novel set in the distant future within a galaxy controlled by the Mercatoria, a vast and oppressive interstellar empire. The story follows Fassin Taak, a human Seer whose job is to study the Dwellers, an ancient and enigmatic alien species that inhabits gas giants. The Dwellers are nearly immortal and have an unparalleled knowledge of the galaxy’s history and secrets, including the location of mysterious wormholes that could change the balance of power in the galaxy.
When a hidden Dweller List containing crucial wormhole network coordinates is discovered, Fassin retrieves it. However, the Mercatoria and a powerful, rogue warlord named Archimandrite Luseferous are also pursuing the List. As Fassin delves deeper into the Dweller culture, he faces challenges and betrayals, uncovering secrets that shake his understanding of the Universe.
The novel explores themes of power, freedom, and the complexities of ancient civilizations. It is filled with Banks’ characteristic wit, intricate world-building, and philosophical insights.
Fig.14: A starship traveling through space with ‘The Flow,’ as described in John Scalzi’s novel The Collapsing Empire. The author made the image using DALL-E AI.
The Collapsing Empire (2017) revolves around a human empire (the Interdependency) spread across many star systems, all connected by a faster-than-light pathway known as ‘The Flow.’
The Flow is an extradimensional field accessible at specific points in space-time and is more than just a method of transportation; it’s integral to the Interdependency’s social, economic, and political fabric. The empire was built on the premise that no colony could be self-reliant, ensuring compulsory interstellar trade and cooperation enforced by the monopolistic and ruling houses.
The novel centers on three primary characters: Cardenia, a reluctant new empress of the Interdependency; Marce Claremont, a scientist specializing in Flow physics; and Kiva Lagos, an audacious and foul-mouthed starship captain. Their lives intertwine as they uncover and navigate the political machinations and crises confronting the empire. Central to the plot is Marce’s groundbreaking discovery that The Flow, which has been stable for centuries, is shifting and may soon disappear. This could doom human colonies that depend on it for survival, effectively isolating entire star systems. This revelation sets off a chain of events filled with intrigue and betrayal.
In the future, humans will explore the stars. This can happen in a few decades or centuries but is inevitable. The long period is due to the stars being incredibly distant, beyond what we can imagine. Our current technology is not advanced enough to travel through interstellar space. Yet, as we improve our understanding of physics and technology, we will create new propulsion techniques. We will find ways to overcome the barriers that separate us from distant planetary systems.
In this post, I describe five ways to reach Proxima Centauri b, now considered the closest (only about 4.2 ly) habitable planet to Earth. I start with something realistic and then move on to more fantastic possibilities.
Why should we travel to Proxima Centauri b?
Traveling to Proxima Centauri b is extremely important for science, the economy, and human understanding.
Venturing to Proxima Centauri b will help us learn about exoplanets and discover extraterrestrial life. It is located in a region where liquid water probably exists, making it a possible habitat for life. Studying this planet would offer valuable information about its atmosphere, geology, and signs of life. These findings would significantly advance our knowledge of the Universe. They would also enhance our understanding of our existence, helping us answer longstanding questions about life beyond Earth.
Journeying to Proxima Centauri b can lead to groundbreaking technologies, industries, and advancements. Developing efficient propulsion systems, life support technologies, and navigation techniques for interstellar travel can have wide-ranging impacts. These include benefits for transportation, energy generation, and resource management on Earth. Investing in these endeavors can bring economic growth, job opportunities, and technological progress.
Human nature is driven by a strong urge to explore and push boundaries. Traveling to another habitable planet signifies the ultimate achievement, reflecting our curiosity and thirst for knowledge. Interstellar travel symbolizes a future where humanity goes beyond our planet. It unites us and inspires future generations to pursue science and exploration. This effort would have a profound psychological and societal impact, fostering a sense of unity on a global scale.
In summary, traveling to Proxima Centauri b offers several benefits. We could gain new scientific knowledge. It might help us find alien life. The trip could lead to the creation of innovative technologies. Additionally, it would boost our economy and inspire us to explore beyond our limits. This journey would advance our understanding of the universe, unite humanity, and pave the way for interstellar travel.
What Kind of Planet is Proxima Centauri b?
Fig. 1: An imaginary landscape of Proxima Centauri b, made by the author with Midjourney AI.
With a minimum mass of at least 1.07 ME (Earth masses, ME = 5.9722 x 1024 kg) and a radius only slightly larger than that of Earth, Proxima b is deemed an Earth-like planet. This planet is situated within the habitable zone of Proxima Centauri. Nonetheless, it remains uncertain whether or not it possesses an atmosphere. Proxima Centauri is a flare star. It emits intense electromagnetic radiation. This radiation can strip away any atmospheric layer surrounding the planet. Furthermore, Proxima b is expected to be tidally locked with its host star. This means that one side of the world would always face Proxima Centauri. This occurs due to a 1:1 orbit where the rotation period matches the time taken to finish one orbit. The consequences of such tidal locking are still ambiguous, and it is unclear whether habitable conditions can arise. In such a scenario, the planet would experience an extreme climate, with only a part of it being habitable.
Proxima b is not tidally locked if:
Its eccentricity is higher than 0.1 – 0.06 (that is, the orbit is much flatter than a perfect circle); in this case, the planet would probably enter a Mercury-like 3:2 resonance (three rotations around the axis for every two revolutions around the primary star);
The planet isn’t symmetrical (e.g., triaxial). In this case, capture into a non-tidally locked orbit would be possible even with low eccentricity.
A non-tidally locked orbit has disadvantages. For example, the planet’s mantle would experience tidal heating, which leads to more volcanic activity and a possible loss of a magnetic field. Protecting the atmosphere from the stellar wind is challenging without a strong magnetic field.
Proxima Centauri b’s atmosphere has two possible scenarios. It either lost hydrogen and retained oxygen and carbon dioxide, or it formed farther away from its star and still had hydrogen. This distance would have helped preserve its water.
However, red dwarfs are not suitable for supporting life due to various challenges and uncertainties.
Among others:
The stellar wind from Proxima Centauri is more significant than the Sun’s and may remove parts of the planet’s atmosphere;
If a planet is tidally locked to its star, the atmosphere can collapse on its night side;
Proxima b may not always be in the habitable zone due to its eccentric orbit;
Proxima Centauri, a star unlike the Sun, had its habitable zone farther away in the past. If a planet like Proxima Centauri b formed in its current orbit, it could have been too close to the star. Water might not have existed there for up to 180 million years. This led to a runaway greenhouse effect, causing the planet’s water to evaporate into steam and escape into space, akin to Venus.
Still, red dwarfs like Proxima Centauri live for a very long time, much longer than the Sun. This gives life a lot of time to develop.
How to travel to Proxima b
Scientists have proposed five ways to travel to Proxima b. One method is the “generation ship.” This method was one of the first ways to reach the stars discussed in scientific literature. It is a potential choice with our current technology.
(a) Generation Ship:
Fig. 2: A generation ship allows humanity to travel to the nearest habitable planet at sub-light speed. Credits: Midjourney AI.
This idea involves creating a spacecraft that can support many generations of people during a long journey. The ship would travel at subluminal speeds, using nuclear power. It’s hard to know precisely how long it would take for the starship to reach its destination: tens of thousands of years or even more.
With our current technologies, a generation ship is technically possible. Still, it is essential to consider the drawbacks linked to such a venture.
Spending your entire life on a spaceship is challenging for your mental health. You never get to experience life on a planet. Being confined in a limited space can make you feel down. A boring routine contributes to this feeling. Moreover, not interacting with others much can also affect your mood. Also, being incapable of seeing different places can make you feel like you are missing out. Not trying new things makes you feel disconnected from the natural world.
Health concerns are also significant when planning a generation ship. Extended space travel can lead to problems like weakened bones and muscles, vision impairments, and increased radiation exposure. A lack of proper medical facilities and resources onboard makes keeping the crew’s overall health and well-being extremely difficult.
Additionally, the people living on the ship must create their society. They would need to make rules, govern themselves, and develop their way of life. It would be a big challenge to keep everyone happy and treat everyone fairly. There could be problems with people wanting too much power or causing trouble. Thinking about all these things is essential before embarking on a journey like this.
Finally, there are ethical concerns to consider. Is it fair to force future generations into space travel without their consent? Their descendants would have no choice in the matter. They would live and die on the spaceship, missing out on the joys of life on a planet. This raises questions about our responsibility to future generations.
(b) Ion Propulsion:
Fig. 3: A starship using ion propulsion to reach the stars. The author made the image using Midjourney AI.
Ion propulsion utilizes electrically charged particles (ions) to generate thrust. This technology is already used in spacecraft missions, like NASA’s Dawn mission. Ion thrusters offer low acceleration but can sustain continuous and efficient propulsion over a long period. With current capabilities, ion propulsion can reduce travel time to Proxima Centauri to a few thousand years. Still, significant advancements in this technology must occur for it to become a practical choice for interstellar travel.
(c) Anti-matter Propulsion:
Fig.4: An anti-matter-propelled starship approaching an exoplanet. The author made the image using Midjourney AI.
Anti-matter propulsion involves using anti-matter to generate thrust by converting mass into energy. This technology has great potential for faster space travel. Yet, producing, storing, and containing anti-matter is very challenging. At present, only small amounts of anti-matter can be made. If we overcome these challenges, we could reach speeds close to the speed of light. This would allow us to travel to Proxima Centauri in several decades or less.
(d) Travel Through a Wormhole:
Fig.5: A futuristic starship entering a wormhole. Wormholes, or Einstein-Rosen bridges, are hypothetical shortcuts through space-time. The author made the image using Midjourney AI.
Wormholes involve creating tunnels or shortcuts in spacetime that connect distant locations. There is ongoing research in theoretical physics about wormholes. Nonetheless, it is essential to note that there is no definitive consensus on the existence or feasibility of traversable wormholes.
According to conventional theories of general relativity, wormholes would need exotic matter with negative energy density. This type of matter would stabilize the wormholes. Exotic matter has properties contrary to ordinary matter. It has not been observed in nature and is purely speculative. Nevertheless, some theoretical physicists have proposed other models that avoid using exotic matter or colossal energies. One such approach is the concept of “traversable wormholes without exotic matter,” first put forth by Eric Davis in 1997. This model uses a form of matter called “phantom energy.” This is, again, negative energy. Still, it does not violate any physical energy conditions. Phantom energy is a hypothetical concept that arises from quantum field theory and has negative pressure. It remains an area of ongoing theoretical exploration and debate.
If wormholes are discovered and harnessed, they would allow almost instantaneous travel between Proxima Centauri and Earth.
(e) Solar Sail:
Fig.6: A spaceship driven by a solar sail is an intriguing possibility to reach the stars. The author made the image using Midjourney AI.
Solar sails are a fascinating spacecraft propulsion technology that harnesses the power of sunlight to propel a spacecraft through space. They work by utilizing the gentle pressure exerted by photons, or particles of light, emitted by the Sun. These photons can transfer momentum to the surface of large reflective sails, creating a slight but continuous acceleration.
One notable project exploring the potential of solar sails is the Breakthrough Starshot Project. This ambitious undertaking aims to send tiny, gram-scale spacecraft to the nearest star system, Alpha Centauri. The envisioned spacecraft would be equipped with ultra-lightweight sails and propelled by an array of powerful lasers from Earth. These tiny probes use the momentum from the laser beams. They could reach up to 20% of the speed of light. This ability significantly reduces the travel time to another star system.
As a final remark, we report an intriguing speculation by Harvard astrophysicist Avi Loeb. In 2018, he proposed that the peculiar interstellar object named Oumuamua is an alien spacecraft. Oumuamua means “scout” or “messenger” in Hawaiian. He suggested a solar sail propels it.
Nonetheless, this speculation remains highly controversial within the scientific community. The available data on Oumuamua is limited. Scientists have also proposed different natural explanations. These include cometary outgassing or a peculiar shape resulting from its formation. Further studies and observations are necessary to decide its true nature definitively.
The Dyson sphere is a hypothetical megastructure physicist Freeman Dyson proposed in 1960.
According to his paper published in Science magazine, a technologically advanced alien civilization would use increasing energy as it grew. As the most significant source of energy in any solar system is the parent star, sooner or later, the civilization would build orbiting solar panels to try to capture it. Such structures would take up more and more space until they eventually covered the entire star like a sphere.
In a 2008 interview with Slate, Dyson also credited the concept to writer Olaf Stapledon, who introduced it in his novel Star Maker in 1937.
Dyson’s hypothesis turned out to be hard to verify because a complete Dyson sphere, absorbing all of the light from the star, would be invisible to an exo-planet hunting telescope (such as NASA’s Kepler). Only half-completed spheres would have a chance to be discovered.
Unfortunately, a Dyson sphere is unlikely to remain under construction for long. The time it takes to make a Dyson sphere is relatively short. A 2013 paper by Stuart Armstrong and Anders Sandberg (“Eternity in six hours: Intergalactic spreading of intelligent life and sharpening the Fermi paradox”) estimates that disassembling Mercury to make a partial Dyson shell could be done in 31 years.
An alternative would be to look for waste heat in the infrared. After being absorbed and used, the energy from a star needs to be reradiated, or else it would build up and eventually melt the Dyson sphere. This energy would be shifted to longer wavelengths so that a Dyson sphere might give off a peculiar energy signature in the infrared. In other words, Freeman Dyson saw a search for his namesake spheres as a complement in the infrared to what Frank Drake’s Search for extraterrestrial intelligence (SETI, see previous blog post) had begun to do with radiotelescopes.
Carl Sagan and Russell Walker first voiced an issue with Dyson’s SETI notion in their 1966 paper “The Infrared Detectability of Dyson’s Civilizations” for the Astrophysical Journal. The authors noted that:
discrimination of Dyson civilizations from naturally occurring low temperature objects is very difficult, unless Dyson civilizations have some further distinguishing feature, such as monocromatic radio-frequency emission.
In the following decades, the search for Dyson spheres expanded dramatically. Starting from the 1980’s researchers went to work using sources identified by the Infrared Astronomical Satellite (IRAS). These early searches produced little o no results, as most Dyson sphere candidates had either non-technological explanations or needed further study. Subsequent investigations using NASA’s space-based WISE (Wide Field Infrared Survey), with higher resolution than IRAS, have all concluded that the identification of a promising source would not in itself be proof of an extraterrestrial civilization unless the object could be followed up with more conventional methods, such as laser or radio search.
Among the latest developments concerning Dyson spheres are the following:
Dyson spheres could be built around black holes instead of stars.
Black holes can radiate incredible amounts of energy (105 more energy than the Sun) produced by the so-called “accretion disk” of gas and dust falling into the black hole’s maw. As a consequence of their spiraling and spinning motions, these materials heat up through friction to millions of degrees, emitting extremely energetic X-ray photons.
But why would an alien civilization decide to build a Dyson sphere around a distant black hole (if it weren’t “distant,” the civilization would have been “eaten” long before it managed to construct the sphere) rather than using their much closer parent star? Black holes concentrate an enormous mass into a space area that is orders of magnitude smaller than a star’s, and are therefore easier to encircle. On the downside, black holes often have bursts of activity followed by quiet periods as they consume varying lumps of matter in their disks. An alien species woulod have to protect their orbiting structures from the huge explosions that might destroy them.
Dyson spheres could be circling the husks of sunlike stars known as white dwarfs.
Every star has a finite lifetime. If a civilization arose around a typical sun-like star, then someday that star would turn into a red giant and leave behind a white dwarf. That process would roast its solar system’s inner planets and freeze the outer ones as the white dwarf cooled off. Consequently, the civilization would have to choose between moving to another system or building a series of habitats that harvest the radiation from the remaining white dwarf. It seems unlikely that a civilization, no matter how advanced, would go through the enormous effort of traveling to another star only to build a Dyson sphere.
This allows a direct connection between stellar lifetimes and the prevalence of Dyson spheres.
If enough aliens decided to build Dyson spheres around their white dwarf homes, then astronomers should find at least one Dyson sphere in white dwarf surveys. The presence of a megastructure like a Dyson sphere around a white dwarf would absorb part of its radiation and convert it into reusable energy. Since no conversion is 100% efficient, this process would leave behind waste heat that would escape as infrared light.
Astronomers have already found many white dwarfs with excess infrared emission, usually explained as dust in those systems, not megastructures. According to a paper by Ben Zuckerman and recently accepted for publication in the journal Monthly Notices of the Royal Astronomical Society, no more than 3% of habitable planets around sunlike stars give rise to a white dwarf sphere-building civilization. Still, there are so many planets orbiting sunlike stars that this calculation only provides an upper limit of 9 million potential alien civilizations in the Milky Way.
The search for extraterrestrial life has captivated humanity for centuries. Countless questions arise in our quest to discover if we are alone in the vast universe. The Drake Equation, a mathematical formula introduced by astronomer Frank Drake in 1961, attempts to estimate the number of civilizations within our Milky Way Galaxy. However, recent scientific discoveries have unveiled a new intriguing possibility – rogue worlds. These wandering bodies, expelled from their original solar systems, may hold the potential for harboring life. In this blog post, we will explore the fascinating intersection of the Drake Equation and the enigmatic realm of rogue worlds, exploring the tantalizing notion of life beyond our home planet.
The original form of the equation is the following:
N = R* f(p) n(e) f(i) f(l) f (c) L
• N is the number of civilizations trying to communicate with us right now;
• R* is the rate of star formation in stars per year;
• f(p) is the fraction of those stars which have planetary systems;
• n(e) is the number of Goldilocks (i.e., Earth-type) planets in a planetary system);
• f(l) is the fraction of habitable planets that are inhabited;
• f(i) is the fraction of inhabited planets that possess intelligent technological civilizations;
• f (c) is the fraction of intelligent technological civilizations that choose to emit detectable signals;
• L is the length of time signals will be sent.
The first three factors are astronomical, the fourth and fifth are biological, and the last two factors are social. There are several issues with the equation. Among these:
(1) The uncertainties are large enough for the astronomical factors and increase as one progresses from the astronomical to the biological to the social.
(2) Most factors depend on theoretical insights of star and planet formation, new discoveries about exoplanets, and varying subjective opinions on the evolution of life and intelligence. The presumed longevity of civilization must also be taken into account.
(3) The equation has many hidden assumptions: a uniform star formation rate (SFR) over the Galaxy’s lifetime and a steady state of civilization birth and death.
(4) No matter what value one chooses for R*, the assumption is always that a habitable planet must have a star. However, rogue worlds (bodies that have been thrown out of their own nascent solar system) wander around the Galaxy unattached to a star.
This last item has recently awakened great interest in the scientific community.
“[…] the number of rogues might be between twice and thousands of times the number of conventional planets. Interstellar space must be littered with them!”
Also, rogue planets need not be uninteresting ice balls with no life and energy. Lacking direct radiation from a star, a world can be heated by the residual power from its formation and the radioactive decay of elements in its interior. If provided with one or more moons, the planet can draw energy from a process known as tidal heating (which is responsible for the subsurface oceans on some of Jupiter and Saturn’s moons).
“[…] Their main immediate abode is a still undiscovered and almost lightless planet at the very edge of our solar system – beyond Neptune and the ninth in distance from the [S]un. It is, as we have inferred, the object mystically hinted at as ‘Yuggoth’ in certain ancient and forbidden writings; […] I would not be surprised if astronomers become sufficiently sensitive to these thought-currents to discover Yuggoth when the Outer Ones wish them to do so. But Yuggoth, of course, is only the stepping-stone. The main body of the beings inhabits strangely organised abysses wholly beyond the utmost reach of any human imagination.”
And also:
“[…] Those wild hills are surely the outpost of a frightful cosmic race – as I doubt all the less since reading that a new ninth planet has been glimpsed beyond Neptune, just as those influences had said it would be glimpsed. Astronomers, with a hideous appropriateness they little suspect, have named this thing ‘Pluto.’ I feel, beyond question, that it is nothing less than nighted Yuggoth […].”
“It’s dark. Not midnight-on-a-side-street dark, but trapped-in-a-cave dark. And no wonder—there’s no sun in the sky, for this is a rogue world, one that circles no star. There is a moon up there somewhere, but without a source of light for it to reflect, it’s just a darker patch in the sky. Whatever life forms live on this planet had better be able to see in infrared because there’s simply no other light to be had. You’re wearing infrared sensors, fortunately, and you spot a few of these creatures scurrying back to the planet’s subterranean tunnels, where they can bask in the heat emanating from the planet’s interior. […]”
“[…] Here at the edge of the Galaxy, the stars were so few and scattered that their light was negligible. […]”
“[…] Here at this outpost of the Universe, the sky held perhaps a hundred faintly gleaming points of light, as useless as the five ridiculous moons on which no one had ever bothered to land. […]”
“[…] No one could deny that the tunnels out in the wasteland were rather puzzling, but everyone believed them to be volcanic vents. Though, of course, life often crept into such places. With a shudder, he remembered the giant polyps that had snared the first explorers of Vargon III […]
The Drake Equation is not meant to give a precise answer but to stimulate scientific discussion and exploration. It is based on several factors that affect the likelihood of finding intelligent life, such as the rate of star formation, the fraction of stars with planets, the fraction of planets suitable for life, and the fraction of civilizations that develop radio technology. Each factor is multiplied by the previous one, resulting in the number of detectable civilizations in our galaxy. However, many of these factors are uncertain, and different assumptions can lead to different outcomes. For example, some estimates suggest that there could be millions of civilizations in our Galaxy, while others suggest that we might be the only one.
According to a recent study, under the strictest set of assumptions, where life forms between 4.5 billion and 5.5 billion years after star formation, there are likely between four and 211 civilizations in the Milky Way today capable of communicating with others, with 36 the most likely figure. Another study yielded two main results: an optimistic one and a pessimistic one. In the optimistic situation, the researchers suggested the aforementioned 42,777 communicating extraterrestrial intelligent civilizations (CETIs) with an error margin of plus 267 and minus 369, and they would need to survive 2,000 years on average to communicate with us.
The Drake Equation is a fascinating way to explore the possibilities of extraterrestrial life and communication. It helps us understand what we know and don’t know about our place in the universe. It also inspires us to keep searching for signs of other civilizations and to wonder what they might be like.
“The universe is a pretty big place. If it’s just us, it seems like an awful waste of space.”
This quote is attributed to Carl Sagan from his novel Contact (1985). It is often interpreted as reflecting Sagan’s optimism and belief in the possibility of extraterrestrial life. He strongly advocated for the search for extraterrestrial intelligence (SETI) and believed that the discovery of intelligent life beyond Earth would have profound implications for humanity.
In other words, Sagan suggested that if the Universe is so vast and we are the only intelligent life in it, it would be a shame to waste all that space on just one civilization.
A recent estimate (Conselice C.J. et al. 2016) says the observable Universe contains two trillion – or two million million – galaxies. Of course, this is a huge number, which math buffs can probably better appreciate if I translate it into scientific notation:
two trillion = two million million = one thousand billion = 2 x 1012
Even if we neglect 99.9999% of the Universe and consider only the Milky Way, we are left with a staggering number of about 100 to 400 billion stars.
Of course, these hundreds of billion stars vastly differ in age, mass, and chemical composition.
A small percentage of stars are massive, young, and very bright (the so-called O, B, and A spectral types, with colors ranging from ultraviolet/white to blue);
A relatively large number of stars are medium-sized (the F and G spectral types, yellow to orange in color). Our “dull” Sun is one of them;
The majority of stars are small, old, low-mass stars (the K, M spectral types, a.k.a. red dwarfs);
Many stars are brown dwarfs (dark, spherical lumps of stellar material that never reached the star stage).
In the last few decades, roughly from the early nineties, it has become known that most, if not all, stars possess planets. Our Sun has eight major ones (excluding the KBOs or Kuiper Belt Objects). The former planet Pluto, now demoted to “dwarf planet,” is one).
Just like stars, planets also show a vast range of types.
(1) Goldilocks Planets: planets like Earth, located at a distance from their star that allows them to have oceans of liquid water on their surface for extended periods;
(2) Subsurface Ocean Worlds: planets on which oceans of liquid water are bounded below by solid rock and above by ice. Examples in our solar system: the planet Pluto and several moons of Jupiter, Saturn, Uranus, and Neptune);
(3) Rogue Worlds: planets without a parent star. Such planets have been ejected from their solar system of origin and now wander through space. An example is OTS 44, a free-floating planetary-mass object located at 550 light-years, with approximately the mass of Jupiter;
(4) Water Worlds: planets with no dry land at all. That’s what a post-apocalyptic Earth would look like. (See, e.g., Kevin Reynolds’ 1995 movie Waterworld);
(5) Tidally Locked Worlds: planets that always present the same face to their star, much as the Moon does with Earth. Their peculiarity is that one side is perennially hot, while the other is an eternal Antarctica;
(6) Super-Earths: planets whose size falls between Earth and Neptune. Given their mass, the main characteristic of these planets is their intense gravity. Creatures must live in oceans or evolve a strategy to deal with this crushing force. A nice fictionalization of this is Edmond Hamilton‘s Starwolf series (1967-68), where Morgan Chane, the son of a human missionary family, grows up in a heavier-than-Earth world.
If these worlds exist, and there’s a tiny chance some might be inhabited, well… I want to see them. I’ll probably never do it in person (sadly, I’m not an astronaut). However, I can still dream about them, hoping someone will get there someday.
I wish someone to be able to say, just like the replicant Roy Batty in Ridley Scott’s 1982 movie Blade Runner:
“I’ve seen things you people wouldn’t believe. Attack ships on fire off the shoulder of Orion. I watched C-beams glitter in the dark near the Tannhauser Gate. All those moments will be lost in time, like tears in the rain. Time to die.”
