by F Stephan
“We’ll have a course set as soon as we’ve got the answer from Adheek,” the President answered. “The only thing I’m sure of is that we won’t find a solution on our planet. We need help with this.”
“And what’s the cost? How much will we pay for this help?” Killian continued relentlessly, not giving a minute for the chamber behind him to rest.
“Information is free. We have used all our credits on water reclaimers, as was decided earlier this year. If we need more help from the Federation, we need to deliver more pilots and crews to the spaceships. That’s the only thing of value we have among the stars.” Anaru’s mouth felt dry. Mercenaries. That’s what we have become.
A chorus of voices echoed in the chamber, with calls of “slavers”, loud and clear. Chaos broke out again as representatives argued over the need for a local solution instead. The speaker and the President watched the argument rising for half an hour before calling it to an end. Motions were submitted and both the call to all specialists on Earth and to the Federation were accepted.
“Now, dear representatives, we’re here to confirm Natalya Podorovski – Tasha to some of you – in her new job as space station manager. This will transfer the station to Federation management for the time being, until the station is fully operational, and our people can take over. Are we in agreement?”
Before Killian could answer, Laureen was on her feet. In a sniggering voice, pointing above to the station and the Charon, she said, “And we will keep paying for everything in it. Supplies and crew. I see in front of me a conglomerate leader, not a master of space operations. Why don’t you come back to ask your question when the little girl is ready for the job?”
Tasha moved forward to occupy the center of the Chamber. “Honored representatives – yes, as the speaker for NorAm pointed out, I’m the daughter of Anton Podorovski, but not conglomerate leader anymore. I’ve forsaken all rights to the succession in favor of Nikolai, my brother.”
A paper appeared in mid-air above her and a whisper rose in the chamber. The Reborn Russia representative launched a “Hurray” from one side of the chamber, followed by most of Europe and Asia, until they sat again, sternly rebuked by Laureen.
“Your abandoning claims to power down here doesn’t change your situation up there. Your operations will be ready when they bring – reliably and consistently – all the ores we need back on Earth. As far as I know, your ship can’t even run an orbit around the moon without facing difficulties.” She pointed to the 3D of the exercise Leopold had led.
“Lady Cattlin, let me reassure you.” Tasha raised her hand and a new 3D appeared. It showed the bridge of a spaceship in space darker than usual around Earth. Through a large window in the middle of it they saw a series of interconnected modules, U-shaped, with a small one-module wheel in the middle. The whole structure was anchored with giant cables to an asteroid.
“The belt?” asked Rui in astonishment. “Charon is there?”
Anaru smiled. Charon leaving for a training exercise was all the public had known about the current trip. They had kept it secret, using only secure Federation communications to coordinate back and forth. He heard gasps of astonishment from around the chamber.
“Can we listen to them?” asked Killian, his eyes sparkling.
Rui made a quick gesture to a technician at one side of the room, and an audio feed from the bridge began, loud enough for all to hear. “Charon, this is Sara Marques on Kalgoorlie Station. We’re happy to see you. That’s a welcome change.” The representative from the Southern Americas yelled “Go Sara!” which elicited laughter around the room. The mining station master was a former Academy student from Santiago.
“Kalgoorlie, glad to see you as well. This is Leopold from Charon. Meet you in a couple of hours,” Leopold answered cheerfully. His joy changed the mood of the assembly, which erupted with sudden cheers.
Laureen bowed gracelessly, conceding the point. Sound from the 3D dropped again. “I didn’t expect it. This is welcome news, young girl.” She still sneers in defeat. “But once is not reliable nor regular.”
A new riot began in the chamber. Reaching the mining station in the asteroid belt was a three-month trip without the Charon. Bringing back ore from there had proven impractical. But everyone had watched the Charon’s troubles around the moon just a week before. Seeing it now in the asteroid belt brought a hope they hadn’t expected.
At last, when the room calmed, Laureen rose again. “You may be ready for space operations. Well, anyway, you can try. If you don’t deliver, we will take back control. We need ores and a working station. So, don’t fail us. We’ll be watching you closely.”
Leopold
Asteroid belt, Kalgoorlie Station, August 30, 2140
“Charon, this is Sara Marques on Kalgoorlie Station. We’re happy to see you. That’s a welcome change.” Sara, the station mistress, had a melodious voice, which Leopold hadn’t expected. The station rotated in the middle of the bridge, its design showing its age, a project now fifty years old.
“Kalgoorlie, glad to see you. This is Leopold from Charon. Meet you in a couple of hours,” Leopold answered cheerfully. The two jumps since the first had gone well, with his nanites quieter and his crew members slowly learning their trades. This was a happy arrival. “We need to stabilize the ship relative to you, and then we jump over.”
“We’re waiting for you.” Laughter echoed behind her.
The rock had an unstable trajectory and it was hell to position the ship as expected. Leopold had to program in advance all the corrections required to keep Charon close, working with Hawkeyes Noul on the console.
At last, he left the ship, fully suited, to move toward the station, using a cable tethered between them.
“Take care of our baby,” he said to Noul, who had offered to stay on duty, uncomfortable in the old station.
The crew followed him outside. The sky around him was dark, and many asteroids had such low albedo he couldn’t see them well at such a close range. This was frightening, and he was glad when he entered the main airlock of Kalgoorlie.
At first, he felt through the metal the vibrations of the party as the air moved in. Then, he could hear the celebrations already underway. Miners – what have they distilled? His father had organized an apprenticeship in a local mine when Leopold had turned fifteen. After three months underground, he had learned how inventive miners could be.
At the airlock door waited a tanned woman in her twenties, who had a square jaw, brown curly hair, gray eyes, and who wore a fresh uniform.
“Mistress Marques?” He coughed at the odor. The air recycling on Acheron was bad, but it was even worse in the confined Kalgoorlie.
“Sara, please.” She looked at him, her eyes sparkling. “I was a bit younger at the Academy.”
“Oh,” gasped Leopold, remembering the young woman. “But you weren’t a Marques back then?”
“No. Old-fashioned wedding.” She raised her hand. “Before you ask, he died a year ago in the mine. Crushed by a loose tank. He was an idiot! Brilliant, charismatic, but an idiot.” She spat out the word, very rehearsed, too quickly. Ouch, still hurts.
“What’s an Academy pupil like you doing here?”
“No better place in the solar system!” She grinned defiantly. “Real freedom. Stale air and bad food, maybe, but good company. Come, the crowd is expecting you.”
She led Leopold to the next room, and for the first time since his return, he felt at home. He entered the largest module of the station where twenty miners were toasting their arrival. The walls were a mix of flower pots, postcards, and souvenirs from every place on Earth. Above them, a cupola opened straight to the mine, with giant projectors illuminating the night. As soon as Leopold passed through the doorway, they all intoned a wild welcome song in a loud chorus.
“How long have they been waiting for our arrival?” he whispered to the station mistress. “The Federation ship from Kilet Namek was supporting you until now, wasn’t it?”
&
nbsp; “We had to beg for each shipment. You’re our first Earth spaceship. You’re our kin. We won’t beg anymore.” She chuckled. “This is the day when our world changes.”
“How did you do before? Couldn’t you have gained some autonomy?” Leopold was intrigued. He hadn’t been interested in the mining station when he had been younger. He had thought it a crazy, useless project.
She shouted, “Our pilot here would like to see our old shuttle. Anyone care to show him around?”
All hands were raised at once, and the crowd laughed happily. A drink reached Leopold’s hand, its contents colorless but, judging by its odor, very strong. He took a sip and used his nanites to dampen the effect of the alcohol on his body. They were a strange group, tough-looking men and women, but a guitar was out within ten minutes, and cymbals, and every instrument that could fit in a confined space. Music filled the module for the next several hours.
Later that night, they were invited to the guest quarters of the wheel. It was at rest during work hours and span only during sleep time to allow the crew to rest under a full gee. The strange experience left Leopold a bit dizzy in the morning. His own crew was paler even. Spin isn’t gravity.
“The wheel is too small,” explained Sara when she saw them. “We spin too fast to generate the gees. We have to rotate staff regularly.”
“Back to Earth?”
“We tried but we couldn’t do it regularly enough. The journey time was too long. From now on, maybe back to the station. It would be less of a strain on our bodies, going up and down the gravity well. The medics will decide.” She raised her cup of coffee to Rana who nodded, clearly not ready to eat anything.
“Will you show us around today? Will we see the plant itself?” Leopold was keen to begin his role, helped by his nanites.
“Taisir, will you?” Sara called. “Leopold, let me introduce Mister Al Owais, one of our most experienced miners.”
He was a burly man with ice-blue eyes and a neatly-shaven beard. “We’re all experienced, Ma’am. I’m on my resting day, that’s all. Happy to show you around though, sir. Will your crew join us?” Tom, Rana and Anton waved no, looking pale, but Jay and Nick rose, if a little unsteadily.
An hour later, the four of them, all suited up, left the station and began walking outside.
“Ready, Pilot? Jay? Nick?”
Leopold didn’t feel ready, the fear of the previous day coming back to him. It was truly dark here among the asteroids, darker than he had ever known.
“Yes, let’s go,” he answered, hoping his voice was shaking less than his body. The other two didn’t appear any more confident than him.
Taisir activated a remote control and the station lit up, showing a safety line which extended to the asteroid. “It’s all in the rhythm. You only have to get it and you will be fine. Your hands will lock magnetically to the cable until you release them. Your body will remain linked to the safety line at all times.” He began the descent. “You see. Hook, unhook. Hook, unhook.”
Leopold followed, focusing on the cable. He had more experience than his crew. He had to show them. He caught the silver safety line and went into the emptiness. His hand clasped the cable and locked itself to it. He put his other hands under it, locked it, and unlocked his upper hand. He began repeating the gestures, once movement at a time. Jay and Nick followed him into the night.
“You’re doing well. Keep at it.” It was a scary experience, and it would take time to get used to it. But, at last, he felt the rock of the asteroid beneath his feet.
“It doesn’t have enough gravity to hold you. Change the safety line.”
Leopold looked beneath him and found the secondary silver line attached to the rock itself. He switched to it and began hauling himself along the rock, following the massive lights from the station. At last, they found the plant, a metal scorpion burrowing into the ore deposit. It had four hooks to prevent it from leaving the asteroid, and massive projectors to illuminate the site. We’re further away from the Sun than is good for us.
“You see. The drill below the crab processes ore toward it, the plant separates dirt from the rare earth elements we’re looking for. Then, the crab creates a nugget of pure ore surrounded by compacted dirt, and the crane stores it back there.”
“You mean that all nuggets are stored behind it, over there?” Leopold pointed to the strange forms lined up on the asteroid. “What are you doing here?”
“The process is fairly automated but still requires us: finding the right patch, positioning the crab, maintaining it, moving the ore nuggets. Dirt gets everywhere and breaks anything after a while.”
“How did you get the crab here? The Federation’s ship?”
“Nope, we sent it initially with the shuttle. We’ll use it to move it in two years. Until then, it sits unused, attached to the asteroid.” The sleek ship rested on the edge of a crater, barely visible at the other side of the site.
“Strange life?”
“Good life. Useful mining. Not damaging our planet. Good music. Come, let’s head back. We’re going to transfer the nuggets to your ship.”
The crane had begun to move the nuggets to a small rail. A small figure beside it attached a cable to the nugget. Leopold engaged his commlink to Noul on Charon and confirmed the cable ran to the station. There, the small shuttle from Charon would grab the nuggets, and Anton would load them. Tedious work.
Then, over the commlink, working instructions began to appear on the side chat bar while the singing began. It was an eerie sensation. A choral performing here in deep space. Yet, what else was there to do so far away from the warmth of the Sun? With this load, we’re going to win back popular support.
Susanna
Thailand, September 10, 2140
“Many of you will recognize straight away where I am.” Drones high above would catch the sunlight reflecting on the gigantic Buddha built in the center of the valley.
“Fifty years ago, we said no to heroin at this precise location. The proud people who grew it decided to change their lives and changed their world and ours.” And three years ago, I had my very own premiere hosted here, the one that led to the fall of the largest mafia group in Middle China and also Mama Thai, its boss. Susanna’s fans would know this and would appreciate her not boasting about this fact. After her eviction from the Academy in Sydney, she had ventured deep into drugs, becoming Mama’s aide, and then betrayed her when she saw a way out.
Now, the drones were flowing above the orchards. With the new climate, the valley had found new prosperity growing fruits and vegetables, when so many places couldn’t produce them anymore. Small monkeys were helping humans care for the trees, proof that not all mutations were to be feared. The place was quiet, sedate, and incredibly beautiful. Humanity can sometimes improve for the better. Her family’s wealth came from growing plants – any plants – and she felt strangely at home here.
Susanna smiled wanly but her tone became insistent. “Today, I’m launching a new call here. No to this nanite drug.” A gigantic virtual logo filled the valley behind her. A cloud of nanorobots behind a stop sign. Simple, efficient. Around it appeared nightmares faces, one after the other.
“All those horrible deaths. Day after day, new citizens succumb to this plague from the stars. Let’s stop this!” New images filled the screen, increasing the horror. Limbs changing shapes uncontrollably. They seemed to hunt for life, trying to catch her viewers even through the 3D.
“This drug is a nightmare. This drug is dangerous. You’ll lose control. You can’t win. Don’t use it!” At last, a clean grenade blast ended the gruesome sight. “Today, we say no.” Children holding her logo above their heads filled the floor of the valley. Her fans had logged in from all over the world to take part in her show and her team was adding their avatars as fast as they could. Thousands of them had already joined. She loved them all.
Links to her crusade swirled in the center of the 3D, added by her assistant.
“Join us. Join our members
for our campaign Susanna’s against nanites.” Day after day, she would continue airing the unbearable images, the strange and inhuman corpses. She had taken many images from the Federation databases, and this would be the scariest show ever broadcast on Earth. There would be no replays. They would stop all their work to watch it.
Stopping the transmission, she watched the peaceful valley in silence. It had started as a simple revenge against the Russian brat. She was now bidding far higher, for revenge against her family. After her recent campaigns, whoever was attacking the Federation was bound to come to her. And then, she would win.
Tasha
In transit to space station Acheron, September 17, 2140
One week later, Tasha was back in space in transit toward the station.
“Angelo – no way to arrive faster?” She couldn’t stand the slowness of the antique shuttle, a design barely improved over the last century.
“Nope, Pilot.” He flashed his brightest smile at her, delighted by the formality. He was tall, very handsome in his perfect uniform, a living proof of what all humans on Earth could aspire to become in this modern world – if they didn’t fall to the various plagues that engulfed the planet. He had already been a seducer back at the Academy, and their past flirting uneased her. “We are crossing graveyard orbits.”
It was hard avoiding small junk crossing space in this orbit. So, they flew at the maximal speed where the impact wouldn’t crush the metal shield of the ship. Stupid maneuver. Because we didn’t clean up our mess.
“And then we’ll brake for closing maneuvers. Why don’t you plug into the VR and get on with your business? You can be mad at your corporate counterparts all you want. Solve your problem now and you’ll enjoy your dinner with Mathias when we arrive.” Again, a smile. Don’t mess with the Pilot.
