by Paul James
He paused for possible follow-up questions. Seeing none, he continued. “The hotel garage has moon buggies for visitors to use after being trained and passing a test. Exploration beyond the resort is encouraged but only with an experienced guide. The clear plastic of the dome means stargazing is possible from every room; however, for the more dedicated astronomers among you, an observatory with powerful telescopes is available for guest use. It’s just outside the hotel complex where there’s less light pollution. You can get there by an underground tunnel and automatic train so that you can enjoy the observatory without even going outside.
“Gaming guests have a dome too. I think you’ll find gaming far more satisfying when the virtual universe stretches out all around the players; it becomes a lot more real. Even space travel seems more real in the gaming ‘bubble.’ This is also located away from the hotel and accessed, like the observatory, by underground rail. Reception can point you in the right direction and order you cars for both locations.
“Golfer also have their own dome,” he continued, “and I think you’ll find golfing has a different feel to it with low gravity and the earth and stars for a view.”
Alexis didn’t have to itemize the rest of the hotel’s features because the guests had been well-briefed before they bought their tickets. It had all the usual amenities of a resort on Earth—bars, a casino, a theater, even concert stages. In the latter venues, however, the shows were by hologram, broadcast by entertainers back on Earth.
For most guests, the amenities were very much secondary to the rooms themselves. Just lying on the bed or lounging in the comfortable chairs and staring out into the depths of space without the dimming effect of Earth’s thick atmosphere was what people had paid millions for.
On the day following their arrival, new room names were attached to the doors. Every suite in the hotel was named for these first guests—a permanent record of their stay. Each was promised this same room should they visit again, though they could choose another if they wanted a different view.
Over the following days, the guests took buggies out to visit the institute’s research and mining sites on the surface. They visited the still-active Chinese base where they were graciously shown round by the base manager and fed moon-inspired Chinese dishes. People enjoyed the visits, but being back at the Earth View hotel swinging through the jungle in low gravity was the most popular of all the resort’s attractions. It seemed even the elderly people wanted to be Tarzan or Jane.
The return flight to Earth was, by contrast, a letdown, even though the champagne flowed copiously and the cabin crew exerted themselves to entertain.
“Will it be possible for visitors to live in your Moon City someday?” Melvin asked Alexis as he was doing his official ambassador duties in the cabin. There was a murmur of agreement from many others.
“One day, perhaps,” Alexis said. “For now, it’s still Institute-only, I’m afraid.”
“I like that low gravity,” another of the older guests said. “I felt fifteen years old again every day I was there.”
“I can see that would be a draw,” Alexis said. “Maybe we should create another resort for folks who want to live up here.”
“I’d certainly spend half the year up there,” Melvin said. “If you guys need investors to make it happen, call me.”
There was a chorus of agreement from the remaining guests.
Alexis nodded. “Maybe we will,” he said thoughtfully. “Maybe we will.”
Chapter 50: All Quiet—For Now
Shane stopped recording and stared out of his room into the underwater world, deep in thought. As far as he could remember, that’s how Alexis said it came about. A year later, the institute’s first moon retirement colony opened for those with money. It, too, was an immediate success. Within five years it became the new Florida for the whole wealthy world. It expanded rapidly, which in turn caused expansion in Moon City to house the people who provided goods and services to the wealthy moon-retirees. It wasn’t just the low gravity that made the elderly feel good; the institute’s medical service brought all the new life-extending procedures to the moon so people who arrived as sixty-year-olds could go back to visit friends and family on Earth as twenty-year-olds, even when they reached ninety.
Inviting the elderly to live in the rapidly expanding cities in space provided yet another source of revenue for the institute. Many Westerners were childless and, although some cloned themselves, many were happy to bequeath their wealth to the institute on the understanding that their names would live on as the names of cities, streets, and the other new manmade works on the moon and eventually Mars.
Shane restarted the recorder. What did he learn from all this?
He’d learned that the great movements of history always came down to the driving force of a single man—or, perhaps, a very few men.
When people were poor and hungry, a man said, “I know where we can get food. Pick up your sword and follow me.”
When people had food and wanted comfort, a man said, “I have a theology that will make the world safe for you. Pick up your sword and follow me.”
When people wanted wealth, a man said, “I have a philosophy that will make the world rich for everyone. Pick up your sword and follow me.”
Shane had hoped not to be like that. He had hoped living under the sea—where Dean’s philosophy of not engaging the world was the natural way of things—would keep them safe. But it couldn’t. That final showdown with Tomas had made his hope impossible. Tomas knew Shane had worked behind his back and against him. Tomas knew where Shane and his people lived, even if he wasn’t certain of the exact locations. Invisibility and passive defense could not help them against Tomas and the NuMen.
His undersea world would need weapons that matched those Tomas could build, even if Tomas never actually built any, because the threat from above remained a real and present danger. The future was not to be the safe, serene utopia he’d imagined. It was to be upheaval and fighting because an emotion he didn’t know he had—jealousy—had unraveled his dream even as he was building it.
He’d learned too late that Tomas did not have a secret weapon. It was confirmed when they reorganized the management of the institute’s NuMen. What made Leon disappear was out there, Shane was sure, but not with Tomas. There was another threat to his new world and he didn’t even know where that one was.
At least, not then.
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Paul James is an engineer with a life-long interest in books and writing. Originally from England, he’s lived near Toronto, Canada, for many years and where he hikes, runs and takes wildlife photos whenever the weather will let him. In his writing, he likes to capture the humorous side of life even when the times sometimes don’t seem to warrant it. For his new series, The Modest Proposal Institute, he’s returned to one of his earliest loves — science fiction.
