What the Hezmana is That?

January 2012 Silmarien Szilagyi

This month I bring you a science-fiction show that is near and dear to my heart. Farscape. Fraught with delicious romantic tension, heart-stopping action, heartwarming sentimentality, and as many bizarro aliens as one can take, Farscape certainly delivers. But as creative as the writers are, some of their science is frelled.

Let's start with the basics. An astrophysicist-turned-astronaut named John Crichton is sent careening through a wormhole into a distant part of the universe. He meets a crew of fugitives aboard a biomechanoid (part living, part mechanical) ship named Moya. Now obviously, not everyone in the universe speaks English, so Moya's DRDs (diagnostic repair drones) inject Crichton with translator microbes, which do just what their name implies: they automatically translate alien languages. This is how the different species can communicate.

But not everyone in the universe has been exposed to translator microbes. For example, in the episode "I, E.T.", Crichton encounters some very humanoid aliens, the Denereans, who appear to be quite isolated and lacking space travel. They have had no contact with aliens, until Crichton crashes into the scene. And if the Denreans are so isolated that they haven't met aliens, what's the point of translator microbes? None. Therefore, it's safe to say that Crichton should not have been able to communicate with the Denereans, yet he does. Not a major scientific faux pas, but still a mistake that could've been prevented.

Next, let's look at one of Crichton's crewmates: Ka D'Argo. He's a Luxan, a funny-looking creature--certainly alien, in both anatomy and physiology. Among other traits, Luxans have two hearts, which is probably why they can survive in space for around 15 minutes. Fine. I can abide their double hearts. I can even abide their venomous prehensile tongues. But what never fails to irritate my scientific mind is the scene in the Peacekeeper Wars when D'Argo and the Nebari Chiana survive in space for well over 15 minutes. First, D'Argo's a fantastic creature, but I don't care how tough he is, he can't overstep the 15 minute limit. It's a species thing, for frell's sake. Second, Chiana is a Nebari, so doesn't possess two hearts, yet she still survives because D'Argo gives her mouth-to-mouth. Where does D'Argo replenish his oxygen? His two hearts allow him to retain more oxygen, sure, but create it? No. Space is a vacuum. No oxygen. This scene is a prime example of science-fiction running away with, well, science. All that's left over is fiction.

Speaking of unreal space survival, in "Look at the Princess (Part 2): I Do, I Think", Crichton miraculously escapes a destroyed ship by flinging himself through space to one of Moya's transport pods. Crichton is human; he has one heart. And though he's definitely a survivor, this stunt is a bit much. He flips through space, mouth open. Now I don't know about you, but I find it difficult to hold my breath with my mouth open wide. Additionally, atmosphere exerts pressure on beings, but there is no atmosphere in space. The resulting shift in pressure would kill anything living that's accustomed to pressure. This fact applies to both the D'Argo and Chiana spacing, and Crichton's jaunt. Though Crichton is in bad shape afterward, he's alive. He shouldn't be.

Finally, to conclude "miracles in a vacuum," a scream would not be heard in space. But try telling that to the writers of the season three episode "Fractures." A female Hynerian (an amphibious bipedal creature) is spaced by Moya and her crew. Sure, she's put-out; who wouldn't be? Sure, she's screaming. But the fact that her scream is audible is a major scientific gaffe. Space is a vacuum, which means there is no air or any other atmosphere. And sound waves rely on gases (or solids, liquids, or plasmas) to pass through to create sound. No air, no sound. It's as simple as that.

These next scientific conundrums are probably my favorite because they're fabulously comical. The Scarrans are a bipedal species with strong human and reptilian features. There appear to be differences between social classes; Scarrans higher in the hierarchy are more humanoid, while Scarrans lower in the caste system are more primitive and reptilian. Both types of Scarrans possess heat projection, which just means that they can direct a wave of intense heat at enemies. And so we encounter problem number one. From their aversion to cold and their reptilian skin, Scarrans are probably cold-blooded, thus they cannot generate their own heat. So what accounts for the heat projection? Your guess is as good as mine. Perhaps Scarrans stockpile enough thermal energy to produce the heat wave, but that explanation requires a cool-down period to absorb more energy, which we never witness. Or perhaps there's a more magical explanation--Scarrans are really dragons!

Ahem, moving on to problem number two. Scarran soldiers are somewhat misshapen, with large, protruding, bulbous heads and ill-proportioned humanoid bodies. Aside from making them comical, their funny heads should also throw off their center of gravity, i.e. they should tip over. While I'm all for Scarran-tipping, this, unfortunately, doesn't occur. Scarrans walk just as well as humans. But I suppose stumbling Scarrans wouldn't be quite as intimidating.

Another interesting species are the Delvians. They are sentient, carnivorous plants that have a humanoid form--eyes, ears, mouth, appendages and all. Why humanoid, you ask? I have no idea, but humanoid forms are apparently rampant in the universe. They breathe oxygen, instead of carbon dioxide, and this unplant-like characteristic suggests they do not photosynthesize. They do, however, quite enjoy solar energy. But without photosynthesis, could Delvians really be considered plants? Perhaps in another part of the universe, yes. And we can also speculate on Delvian evolution. They are long-lived (one Delvian is over 800 years old), and as a rule, the longer the lifespan, the shorter the evolutionary history. Take bacteria, for example. Bacteria are constantly evolving--so much so that we cannot keep up--because they have short lifespans. Now transfer that idea to the Delvians. If they began as sessile (fixed by roots) plants, billions of years had to have passed for them to become sentient. And why choose the human form? There's no doubt about it, Delvians are cool, but their evolution and physiology remain murky.

Now that I've spent 909 words picking apart the science in Farscape, I want to conclude by singing its praises. I love this show more than other science-fiction shows because it has so much heart. It's like a child that you can't help but love, despite the flaws. You wish they'd fix the flaws, but at the end of the day, when you're misty-eyed after a touching scene, or awed by the sheer audacity of the characters, you forgive the faults.

Sources:
1. Rockne S. Bannon. (1999-2003). Farscape.
2. Own knowledge of space, evolution, etc.