1 CORE
The Center of Radiometry & Elements, a R&D company and technological thinktank established by Bernard Hubert after he was fired from Outer Limits during the CERN incident. The facilities are located in NA Zone 3, formerly New Mexico.
2 Hubert Drive
A magnetized target fusion (MTS) propulsion drive designed by Bernard Hubert and built by CORE. The first ship to use the Hubert Drive is the Mayflower.
3 Kepler Institute
The first of the SETI School; The Scientific Education Technological Institutes founded in 2043. Located in World Council NA Zone 3 (Western Colorado), it is a center for advanced learning from ages 11 to 19 over 8 cycles. Kepler is not applied to; it invites students who display gifted or genius behavior. It was founded by Grayson Freedman (MIT undergrad), Candice Oliver (Harvard grad), and Aiden Alexander (CalTech postdoc), who together, founded RNA Industries, the father of A.I. Kepler. Along with its brother and sister institutes, Hubble & Jefferson have a focus on advanced robotics, nanotechnology, nuclear physics, aeronautics, and cyber tech.
Four
Suite 11021
Councillor Godric Adams addressed the Council Hall. “Our mistake has always been failing to reach our potential. If humanity had focused on the stars, our new, little dark age could have been avoided.”
The walls and ceiling were smooth, cut from pale grey and green granite that reflected light on the diverse crowd of people from every corner of the globe. His tailored paisley suit of iridescent blue matched the iceberg of his eyes. Known to be persuasive, he was pleased but not surprised by the murmurs of agreement, but one portly fellow at the edge of the room, shot to his feet and screamed.
“No! Absolutely not! You want to waste what few resources we have left on a pipe-dream of conquering space. We need to regrow the population we’ve lost, not try to live in some bad science-fiction novel!”
Godric waited for the echo of his peers, as well as the multiple translations, to subside before answering.
“Yes, we’ve conquered. YES, we’ve pillaged. There was a time it was necessary, but we’ve evolved. We’ve unified.” He gestured at the insignia on each long tapestry, a dove encircling the world with its wings. “At the same time, we can’t allow peace to diminish the drive toward new horizons. When we explore, when we invent, when we immerse ourselves in the new and unique—we flourish.”
His booming voice resonated across the sea of businessmen and women, politicians, diplomats and dignitaries, leaders, scientists, artists and explorers.
“Having been at our worst and come through, we now run the risk of losing the impulse to seize the future. Blessed with this second chance, let’s not waste it. Let us touch the stars—not to abandon Earth, but because every child must leave home to become an adult.”
His challenger wasn’t pleased but conceded with a polite bow. The applause grew to a crescendo. Godric basked in the power granted by the occasion. The other Councillors1 excitedly slammed their ceremonial gavels, signifying the start of the 19th World Council Summit.
As the crowd dispersed, a jovial Bernard walked over to congratulate his old friend. “You never fail to mesmerize, Ric. No wonder you were chosen for the opening address.”
“Thanks Bernie. I’m happy the Council finally accepted my plea to restore your seat on the Cosmology Board. I’ve always said CERN wasn’t your fault, and your absence in the debate and decision about our future in space would’ve been blasphemy.”
“I am forever indebted, Ric.” Bernard gave him a look that decades of friendship interpreted instantly.
“Yes, yes, you wanted to talk.” His expression grew boyish. “I’m more than curious. On the message, you sounded like you did when we used that small telescope on your roof to look at the sky and wonder if we’d ever get back up there.”
Bernard smirked. “This is a bit more… tangible.”
Godric raised an eyebrow, but Bernard shook his head. “Tonight, after the summit. I’ll be in the Spear,2 Suite 11021. There’ll be a key for you with the concierge.”
The politician tingled at the thought of big accomplishments in the shadows. But then he noticed the disapproving glances cast at his familiarity with Bernard. Both understanding, with swift, stoic nods, the friends parted company.
Accompanied by his personal assistant, Paige Spark, Godric headed for his office hoping to rest. Near the last turn, he heard a familiar voice apparently sharing his biography.
“He’s the son of Quincy Adams, 53rd and last U.S. President and the man who ceded American sovereignty to the World Council. After the Third World War, many felt a global government was necessary to restore stability. America, one of a few nations still capable of sustaining itself, found Adams’ decision highly divisive. Without him, the World Council wouldn’t exist, and it’s through Godric’s leadership that…”
It was Madeline Good, his NA Zone 3 counterpart, addressing a small group of teen students. “Thank you, Madeline, for the family history lesson.
“And wouldn’t you know it—Godric Adams, Councillor of North America Zone 1, advocate for the dissolution of nations, and now in charge of our new space program. What convenient timing! If I didn’t know better, I’d think you have me under surveillance.”
Her sarcasm was hidden just enough to be civil. Ignoring the jab, he turned to the students. “Madeline and I have what you might call professional disagreements. She believes my views are too… robust. Let me ask you, do you want to search the stars?”
After a resounding, “YES!” Godric couldn’t help but give Madeline a snide grin.
She motioned the group to move along. “Of course; we’d all like that, wouldn’t we? But we enjoy eating, too, don’t we?”
Once alone, she turned to Godric, their respective guards and assistants moving back to provide privacy. “Well, well, the mighty Godric Adams, whose boyish dreams are going to cause our next great war.”
“Ah, Mrs. Good, whose naive views deeply stunt her growth as a person. At least arguments such as ours are the cornerstone of what makes the World Council great.”
She batted away the compliment. “Stop. I have nothing but loathing for everything you and your father cost this great nation.”
The fiery glare obliged Godric to drop any pleasantries. “That nostalgic, narrow-minded hubris makes it clear that you, or anyone you cared for, weren’t living in coastal cities when the lights went out. Safe and sound in the heartland, with your crops and your guns, far from starving masses, yes? How long do you think we would have lasted?”
“Longer than a global empire can hold, versus one strong nation.”
“If we fall, we fall together.”
“Then we might as well fall. What would your ancestors think of your father throwing away the greatest democracy on earth?” Her slight, disapproving head shake conveyed her contempt; poor thing, you’re not even capable of understanding this argument.
It didn’t work. “Threw away?! Please, the three-hundred year history of the United States is a momentary speck in an indifferent universe.”
“Which makes it okay to abandon our national security without a thought about what the next three-hundred years of cosmic indifference might bring?”
Godric appreciated her ability to use his own words against him. He took a breath and tried to continue in a cooler tone.
“Next time a global crisis kills a quarter of the population and leaves the remaining 9+ billion lives on the line, I’ll be sure to consult you first.” Knowing Madeline could go on berating him for hours, he strolled into his office and closed the door.
Inside, he stared at the portrait of his distant ancestor, John Adams, one of America’s founding fathers, and reflected on the World Council. Nineteen years, nineteen summits, and in some corners of the earth, they still struggled to maintain order.
For him, a born pioneer, the exploration and exploitation of space was the obvious solution. With Earth depleted, mining the moon and the asteroids was a w
in-win. It gave this planet’s ecosystems a reprieve and provided resources to develop interstellar travel tech.
He did have one reservation; a fear, really, which he could never express—that the man who heckled his speech might be right, that the conqueror in humanity could win out over the explorer.
He sifted through the papers on his desk. A true technologist, Godric was untrusting of digital files after the third war. Skimming through the pages until he found what most heavily burdened his mind: the Space Exploration Act3. It was exactly the legislation needed to properly return humanity to the last frontier.
Once the ionosphere was no longer lethal, after the devastation of the third world war, they began salvaging remaining satellites. Almost two decades had passed with no passage into space; fear of the unknown consumed the surface. Finally, proposals were drawn for journeys to Mars, the Belt, Callisto, Ganymede, and Titan. Lunar mining had resumed, asteroid mining was in the near future, and interstellar exploration around the corner.
Godric believed what he said, that the spirit of exploration had to be rekindled, but he was also painfully aware of history. The moons and planets beyond Earth would become a wild west, every corporation and private interest rushing to stake a claim.
If they stumbled on life, would they act accordingly? Heed humanity’s better angels? What if they were attacked, or worse, started a war, wiped out another species?
This bill was the answer. If it passed, entities planning to explore areas hypothetically capable of supporting life would have to submit a proposal defending their ability to properly represent Earth in case of first contact.
It was controversial; its necessity doubted. Some thought it too controlling, the proposed consequences too Draconian. Godric thought it genius. Despite bottlenecking the very pioneering he hoped to foster, it would protect humanity from its own evils.
It was the bill’s providence that made him uneasy. It was submitted by an anonymous think-tank, no one taking official credit. Anyone choosing anonymity over potential political capital must have ulterior motives. He’d checked the usual suspects, but all came up clean.
Godric’s speech being more than enough work for the first day, he stayed far from the summit. He’d return tomorrow, when he’d be in prime shape for the mandatory mingling.
A breeze beneath the jamb, so slight he’d forgotten about it, gusted. At once, the French doors opened revealing the blonde, razor-haired CEO of Outer Limits, Angelika On.
“Got a second, Ric?” Without waiting for an answer, she walked in.
Once, he might have been surprised by her forwardness. Not anymore. “What brings you here?”
Smiling serenely, she ran a hand along the globe bar in the center of the room. “As you know, we’re working on an 8th gen rocket that could reach the outer planets in fifteen years. It would be much easier to build with more resources, so, long story short, I want your support on the Lunar Resource Allocation Bill.”
“Right. Because as the council’s space geek, my vote would go a long way. And here I’d hoped to get through the summit before this conversation. See, I also know you’ve built an empire on the heels of decisions I’ve made when I believed we were both working for the greater good of mankind.”
Angelika circled like a wolf sizing up its prey, but spoke gently. “Godric, old friend, didn’t the ‘Great Explorer’ bill of 2081 help elect you? Didn’t the thousands of lunar mining jobs I created amply demonstrate the benefits of your beloved exploration? Yes, it helped position Outer Limits for the future, but does that preclude good intent? You must admit I’ve not only never gone back on my word, I’ve helped achieve our mutual goals quite a bit.”
Leaning, she made herself seem vulnerable.
“Fair enough. So tell me, what benefits does passing LRAB 4bring us both?”
“Well, it allows companies…”
Godric snorted. “A company. Yours.”
Angelika broadened her smile. “Today, but who knows what companies will benefit from in the future?”
Godric counted the worst possible offenders on his fingers. “Weyland, Yutani, Tyrell, Wallace…”
“Alright, Ridley Scott. As I was saying, it allows companies to mine, research, and explore without cumbersome W.C. oversight and fees, coupled with a prioritized use of the resulting resources by the only company capable of expanding the endeavor. That not only benefits free enterprise, but humanity as well. Besides, when else will you have a defining hand in establishing the basics for extraplanetary enterprise legislation?”
Godric smiled and leaned back. “As a matter of fact, there are several current opportunities which provide that option.”
Let her chew on that for a moment.
So far, the conversation was a formality. She knew he was already in favor of the Lunar Bill. The CEO of the world’s biggest engineering company didn’t just stop-in to chat, even if they were friends for twenty-five years. There had to be something else.
“You’re referring to the new ‘space exploration’ bill?” Her sarcasm was minimal, but apparent. “Or should I say the ‘make space elitist bill?’”
“Which you’re also behind, no?” He feigned confidence in the assertion but knew the tactic would prove ineffective against her.
“What makes you think that bill had anything to do with me?”
As expected, her poker face, endearing as it was, gave away nothing. She was good. Really good. Getting better with age, like a fine whisky.
“For starters, O.L. has an IRAD5 for prospecting on Titan. It’s already pretty fleshed out: manifest, refinement capsules, chemical conversion pods…”
“Well, well, look who has access to classified documents.”
“Makes sense,” Godric continued. “The hydrocarbons alone would provide all the polymers Earth would ever need. Plus, someday soon Titan will be the most strategic spot in the outer system. The exploration bill has exactly your sort of long game written all over it.”
Smiling innocently, she smoothly paced around the chair, fingertips stroking the smooth, blue leather. “I’m planning to run a business in the most inhospitable environment possible. Keeping the riff-raff at bay is sound risk reduction. I am, of course, fully confident that Outer Limits will exceed any expectations put forth by W.C. I don’t hear you complaining exactly. The bill aligns perfectly with that idealism you desperately want to bring to the stars.”
“That it does, but when something sounds too good to be true, I like knowing who’s agenda I’m supporting.”
She leaned over the chair back, closer to his face, and whispered, “I prefer to revel in one of the rare moments we both get what we want.”
The Space Exploration Bill was hers. Sure of it, Godric bounded to his feet and extended a hand. “You always know how to get to me, Angie. You have my vote for the Lunar Resource Allocation Bill, but I’ll be watching every step along the way, to keep you honest, of course.”
She met his hand with a strong clasp. “Wouldn’t have it any other way.”
Sphinx-like, she exited, not a hint of pleasure. If her visit here was a success, or a failure, there was not a trace of joy or disappointment on her fleeting face. It was only after the doors gently closed behind her that she dared wonder: Who really did submit that bill?
Convinced she’d left with exactly what she came for, Godric thought, O.L. really is the best company for the job. She hasn’t lost my trust, not yet, anyway.
He sat in his four-legged armchair. The window overlooked a sprawling metropolis, but he dreamt of the emptiness faced by the old explorers as they wandered in the vast, pure, trackless ocean, peering about for anything new.
Hours passed before Godric headed to the duplex unit adjacent to the Council complex. It was elegantly simple, with a magnificent view of the East River and its seawalls. The pieces hung throughout by artists from Van Gogh to Escher to DaVinci, still providing inspiration and awe. It was the smallest dwelling any Adams ever occupied, but it was home, a haven from
political posturing and positioning.
Changing into less formal attire, he jumped into his classic Tesla Roadster. Like most of his possessions, it was exceptional, having belonged to Elon Musk. It drove silently beneath a dense network of raised monorail tracks that made the skyscrapers almost impossible to see. Despite the walls, the subways had long been abandoned to flooding, leaving every remaining form of public transportation eternally packed.
Making it across town on the dark, crowded streets, he pulled into the Spear’s entrance. The glass enclosed hotel adhered to a minimalist aesthetic but was no less magnificent.
A product of the 80’s, Godric thought.
The concierge, a stout, prim man in a three-piece suit, greeted him. “Good evening, Councillor Adams. How may I help you today?”
Godric was always taking in his surroundings, especially name tags. “Good evening to you as well, Richard. I believe there’s a key waiting for me. 11021?”
“Ah, yes, from Mr. Hubert.”
Godric entered a lift tube that brought him to the door. Full of expectation, he inserted the key, but it didn’t work. A fail-safe lock had been engaged.
Curious.
Nothing else to do, he knocked out a pattern he and Bernard created ages back:
three times, once, then three times more. A murmur came from the other side.
“Greatest 24th century explorer?”
It being the 21st century, it might seem a peculiar question, but Godric knew the answer. With a sigh and fleeting grin, he supplied it.
“Jean-Luc Picard, USS Enterprise.”
Bernard opened the door, chuckling. “Dear Ric, I did hope you’d remember.”
“Must be three decades since we used that password.”
Both laughed as they entered the comfort of the living room. Bernard poured two glasses of nineteen-year-old Harlem Gold and they sat, whereupon Bernard peered at him as if hoping he was ready to run off for an adventure.
Beyond Kuiper: The Galactic Star Alliance Page 6
