Europa

by Robert Mills

  She gave a half-smile. “Right,” she said, “I’m pleased to say that we can offer you the traineeship. You start in September; that is unless you don’t want to accept our offer.”

  “I’m very happy to accept,” I said. “Where will I be based?”

  “You’ll be working in our North London office.”

  The post was varied and interesting, though I was conscious that one or two of my fellow trainees threw themselves into their work with more enthusiasm than I could muster. One of these was a skinny young man with glasses called Mike Sinha, to whom I took an instant liking. I made it my business to seek his company whenever I could and one evening I suggested we go for a drink after work. We went to a bar not far from the office and settled ourselves in a corner close to the window with our drinks. The only other customer was a man in late middle age who occupied a stool in front of the bar and intermittently engaged the barman in conversation.

  I asked Mike what he planned to do when he had completed his traineeship and he replied, “I’ll go and work in the Callisto colony, of course.”

  “Why do you say ‘of course’?” I asked.

  “Well, that’s why they hired us: to get managers for their operation out there. You must be aware how difficult the jobs market is at the moment.”

  “Yes, but surely you could choose to get a job on Earth?”

  “The way things are at the moment I wouldn’t have a chance,” he said. “I didn’t get a grade one degree and there are plenty of graduates out there with better qualifications and training in a more highly thought-of scheme than ours.”

  “I will admit that I applied to a lot of training schemes and didn’t even get an interview, but I’d assumed I could do anything I wanted when I finished and maybe even get a job with BRC on Earth.”

  “Surely they asked you if you would consider working in one of the off-world colonies?”

  “Yes, they did,” I admitted.

  “Well, that was the key question in the interview. If you’d said ‘no’ they wouldn’t have taken you on.”

  “I only said I’d be willing to consider it.”

  He shrugged. “That was good enough for them. I can only assume that the response analyser registered that as a truthful response.”

  “I don’t think I want to go to Callisto or any of the other off-world colonies for that matter. I know they paint a rosy picture of what it’s like out there for our benefit, but living that far away in microgravity doesn’t sound appealing to me.”

  “I’m not thrilled about it either.” He toyed with his glass. “My plan is to work hard there and get promoted back to Earth in a year or two.”

  “Can that be done?” I asked.

  “If you work hard and catch the eye of the senior managers it’s possible, though there’s no guarantee.”

  I sighed. “Personally I can’t see why we need to send so many people to these colonies,” I said. “I mean, there’s still room on Earth and the population control legislation is pretty tough now.”

  “Oh come on, face facts,” he said testily. “Earth is getting more and more crowded. They haven’t been able to contain the birth rate effectively, despite the legislation you mentioned, and people are living longer and longer. The only answer in the medium and long term is to expand the existing off-world colonies and develop new ones in other parts of the solar system. It’s no good waiting until the entire surface of Earth is heaving with human beings; they’ve got to do something now. The Lunar and Martian colonies have grown to a point where there’s no immediate prospect of further expansion and there’s talk of developing a residential colony on Ganymede and maybe even looking at establishing settlements on one or more of the moons of Saturn. Personally I think it’s inevitable and living in a relatively well-established colony like Callisto is going to be a lot more pleasant than in one that’s only just been set up.”

  “I see what you mean,” I said. “Surely Luna or Mars would be a better bet? They’re a lot closer and the gravity isn’t so low.”

  “Of course everyone prefers Luna or Mars, but that means it’s difficult to get the chance to go there. The thing is, you don’t have to live underground on Callisto, so once you’ve got used to the gravity you could argue that you’re better off there than on Luna or Mars.”

  “Well,” I said, “I’m sure I won’t be going to any of these off-world colonies. I fully intend to spend the rest of my life right here on Earth.” I spoke these words with great conviction at the time. As for Mike, he went to Callisto when the training course was over and was subsequently transferred to Europa. I met up with him again when I arrived there myself.

  By that time work on the Europa colony was well under way. Armies of robots worked in the caves to construct accommodation and other facilities for the settlers who would take up residence there. These robots had to be specially built and programmed to work underground in microgravity at temperatures of around minus 180 degrees Celsius. As Marvin explained to me, there were a number of engineering challenges to be overcome before this new generation of robots was ready to take on the task of building the Europa colony.

  The construction workers who supervised them found working in microgravity difficult at first. They also had problems adjusting to living in an underground environment far away from their home planet. The intense cold and the lack of an atmosphere meant that they spent most of the day in thermal space suits, which they could only shed when they returned to their quarters. There were compensations: they were able to move about at speed with minimal effort and lift weights that they couldn’t have managed on Earth, and they were very well paid. However, their accommodation was basic and their diet, which consisted of foodstuffs imported from Callisto, was rather monotonous. The only other humans on Europa at that time were the engineers, managers and the support teams that looked after the workers themselves. These included cooks and ‘support workers’. This latter group was employed to provide diversions of various kinds during the construction workers’ time off. Although the companies who were involved in the project would not confirm whether or not it was so, most people on Earth thought that some of these men and women satisfied the work force’s carnal needs. In due course an investigative journalist found evidence that this was the case and made it public. Looking back from the comfort of a more permissive age, it seems odd that a revelation of this sort should have caused so much adverse comment.

  Over time the number of workers grew and their living conditions improved. Nonetheless, they seldom spent more than three months at a time on Europa. When they were not working they returned to the relative comfort of Callisto, where there was more on offer, but it was only at the end of their contracts that they were allowed to return to Earth.

  The robots and their human masters also set about providing the means by which humans could survive on Europa. As on Callisto, water came from the ocean via treatment plants and was in plentiful supply. Heat came from geothermal energy in the moon’s mantle, which was accessed by drilling shafts through its crust. This, together with solar radiation, was also used to generate the electricity that provided light in the subterranean labyrinth and power for the colonists’ other needs. A huge array of lights was suspended from the roof of each cavern, so that daylight could be simulated during the activity period of the twenty-four-hour cycle. These lights were turned off during the rest period to facilitate sleep. Oxygen was collected from Europa’s atmosphere, concentrated and mixed with nitrogen to produce a gas suitable to support human life. There had been concerns that there would be no source of nitrogen on the moon, but when it was discovered that some of the bacteria in the ice were able to synthesise this gas, the problem was solved. Factories to cultivate these organisms on an industrial scale were established. At first they worked flat out to generate the artificial atmosphere, then at a slower rate to replace losses of gas from the labyrinth. As these facilities became oper
ational, so the lot of the workers gradually improved.

  Food was grown under artificial light in vast subterranean farms using a hydroponic system. Synthetic meat was produced by genetically modified bacteria and is now a very acceptable alternative to the real thing. Even then, the area on Earth given over to the rearing of livestock was already much diminished, so that real meat had become a commodity that was only available to a minority of better-off individuals and I myself seldom ate it in my youth.

  The workers’ diet included a great deal of fish, which were farmed in huge heated tanks fed with water from the ocean. Beer, spirits and wine could be produced from the hydroponic farms and vineyards, though visitors generally said that they tasted very different to similar products on Earth. Of the various beers that were produced, the Europa Brewery Company’s ‘White Bull Ale’ was by far the most popular and it remains one of my favourite tipples.

  As more caves were discovered, tunnels were created to connect them with those that were already inhabited. These were relatively narrow and were designed to accommodate the robotic transit system that would ferry passengers between the cities of Europa. Personal transport was only permitted to operate within the cities and these vehicles were expensive enough to restrict ownership to the upper income brackets. Marvin and I were fortunate enough to own several during the height of our success but I haven’t driven one for many years.

  Chapter Nine

  A couple of months after I started my training course Marvin announced that he was to marry Liv the following June and asked me to be his best man. I agreed without hesitation. Not long afterwards I received an official invitation from the bride’s parents.

  Marvin was the first of my friends to marry and my only previous experience of a wedding ceremony had been the marriage of a distant cousin when I was fourteen. I downloaded a book about the duties of the best man and racked my brains for stories about Marvin to include in my speech. My book suggested that stories should be ‘amusing, but not offensive’. My admittedly limited experience as a student had convinced me that I wasn’t any good at public speaking, but I was determined not to let Marvin down.

  Another duty that I knew I must perform was the organisation of the stag night. I asked Marvin what form the party should take and he replied, “Oh you know, just a few drinks with some friends; nothing fancy,” in a rather off-hand manner. When pressed he gave me a list of people he would like invited and said that I could add anyone I wanted. I decided to ask my brother along for moral support.

  As Marvin, who had recently obtained a new job with a larger robotics company at an increased salary, was living in central London, as were most of our friends, it seemed best to have the party there. In order to avoid any unfortunate incidents that might impact on the ceremony itself, I chose a date a week before the big day.

  By now Marvin and Liv were sharing an apartment and so I chose a bar a short ATV ride from their home as the meeting place. Following Marvin’s instructions, I assembled a motley crew of university friends, work colleagues and one or two individuals who had been to our old school. The party was completed by my brother Tom who, to my great relief, had accepted my invitation. He was by then an undergraduate reading law at Oxford, but was at home for the holidays and happy to come up to London for a night on the town.

  The first round of drinks was bought and the atmosphere became increasingly convivial as the glasses emptied. I found myself in conversation with a former school friend of Marvin’s who had briefly been a member of the church youth club in Oakwood and who still lived there with his parents. I asked him if he ever saw anything of Gardenia.

  “Gardenia Freeman as was?” he said. “Oh yes she’s married now. Some guy she met at college. She’s put on a lot of weight. It’s a shame really, I rather fancied her.”

  I decided it was best not to mention my brief romance with Gardenia and quickly changed the subject.

  The second round was bought and consumed, and someone suggested we move on. A short way off was another bar themed to look like the sort of traditional ‘pub’ that was around 150 years before, and we headed into the bar and ordered beer, which was one of the few drinks they sold. By this time I was used to drinking in moderation but I was not in the habit of getting drunk. I’d had a skinful at a party a couple of years previously and as I lay in bed the following morning with a thumping head I had vowed never to let it happen again. The night was young and I was already approaching my normal limit.

  Josh, who had been on Marvin’s course at university, had been out for drinks with colleagues at work before joining the party and was already fairly drunk. I didn’t know him well, but he engaged me in conversation as if we were bosom buddies.

  “Marvin’s a lucky sod,” he said, putting a not entirely welcome hand on my shoulder. “That Liv’s a gorgeous girl; very amenable too, if you know what I mean.”

  “How do you know?” I asked indignantly.

  He looked bemused for a moment and then said, “Oh hump, I didn’t mean I’d had the pleasure myself, it’s just what I’ve heard from other people.”

  Meanwhile Marvin was becoming increasingly animated and loud. He talked endlessly about his new job and the many virtues of his bride-to-be. He was starting to repeat himself and his speech was distinctly slurred, much to my embarrassment. I knew that I was responsible for him, both as his best man and his friend, so I suggested that we move on, as I thought that perhaps a walk in the fresh air would help to sober him up.

  The next bar was larger and busier than the first two and there were a number of groups of girls, some of them obviously in high spirits. Before I could stop him, Marvin had joined one of the groups and was laughing and joking with the girls. One of his university friends pushed a cocktail into his hand and he took a swig with some difficulty. I joined the group and got as close to Marvin as I could.

  “Don’t you think you’ve had enough?” I said.

  He turned to look at me with a vacant expression. “Are you saying I’m drunk?” he said indignantly.

  “I just think you’ve had enough, that’s all. You’ll regret it in the morning.”

  “I’m not drunk. I’m happy. I’m getting married you know, to the most wonderful… wonderful girl. Did you know that?” He smiled inanely.

  “Of course I do,” I said. “Come on, Marvin, let me take you home.”

  “I’ve got some friends here. I’m fine. Juss leave me alone with my friends.” Marvin swayed and the girls giggled.

  I became aware that Tom was at my side. “Symon, those guys have been spiking his drinks,” he said urgently. “I’ve no idea how much he’s actually had.”

  I returned to my task with renewed vigour. “Marvin, we must go home now. Liv will be worried about you.”

  “Wha time is it?”

  “Ten fifteen.”

  “That’s not late.”

  “It’s nearly closing time.”

  “Wha’s that?”

  “The time that bars shut; a law was passed a couple of years ago to limit their hours of opening.”

  Tom and I took his shoulders and propelled him towards the door. “Wha are you doing?” he protested.

  “We’re taking you home,” I said firmly.

  “I gotta say tata to my friends.” He tried to turn but we pressed on. Outside Tom hailed a robo-cab and we loaded him in and gave his address. All seemed to be well at first and I breathed a sigh of relief. Then Marvin groaned. “I don’ feel well,” he said, swallowing hard. Then he was sick on the cab floor.

  “Incident alert,” intoned the cab mechanically. “Unidentified substance on floor.”

  “He’s not well,” I said.

  “Breath test confirms high levels of alcohol,” continued the machine. “Unacceptable behaviour, you must alight here. A surcharge will be applied to cover the cost of cleaning.”

  The cab stopped and we tried
to open the doors but found them locked. “You must pay before alighting,” it said. I swiped the payment terminal with my wrist tablet and the doors unlocked. We bundled Marvin out onto the street and the robot drove off.

  Fortunately we were not too far from Marvin’s apartment by then and we helped him to walk the last two blocks. When we arrived he sat down on the steps leading up to his front door looking ashen and groaning softly. Apprehensively I pressed the doorbell. After an interval Liv appeared at the door and looked down at Marvin in horror.

  “What on earth’s happened to him?” she asked.

  “He’s had one too many,” I said. “We need to get him to bed.” Tom and I took his shoulders and helped him into the lift. Once in the bedroom we deposited him on the bed. “Would you like us to help undress him?”

  “No, leave him to me,” said Liv with a face like thunder. “Honestly, Symon, you were supposed to look after him.”

  “I know, I’m sorry,” I said. “The others spiked his drinks. We only found out when it was too late.” She frowned and gave us a look that said, a likely story. We decided that the best plan was to beat a hasty retreat.

  On the street outside I turned to Tom. “Thanks a lot,” I said. “I couldn’t have managed without you.” He smiled. I think that was probably the moment that I felt closest to my brother in my entire life.

  Chapter Ten

  The wedding took place in the Westminster Hall of Marriages, a venue often frequented by the rich and famous. It was located in part of what had been the British Parliament building until a hundred years before. The original debating chambers had been preserved as a museum, but the remainder of the building was divided up to provide space for several local government departments. A large chamber, formerly known as the Robing Room, was the venue for weddings.

  Marvin insisted that we arrive much earlier than was really necessary. We weren’t allowed in immediately, so we decided to take a walk along the Thames. “I’ll be glad when this is all over,” he said when we stopped to gaze across at the south bank of the river.