Homeward: The Ship Series // Book Three

by Jerry Aubin

“Does the Chancellor know we’re meeting?”

  Adan grinned. “Now that brings up a fun vision—the three of us around a table tossing back a few drinks and trying to talk this out together.” The General Secretary remained stone-faced so Adan continued. “I have told her nothing, but I expect she knew there would be a discussion at some point. The Chancellor may be upset that I’ve cut her out of the negotiations, but we have an agreement that I will move as fast as I need and she will stay out of my way.”

  “In previous discussions she and I have had, she has made it clear we’ll find an accommodation that makes all of us happy. I hope you share that attitude, Adan, or there are likely to be significant roadblocks that will appear and prevent you from finishing your little project.”

  Adan detested the man and everything his people believed, but he needed what they had and forced himself to choke down his distaste.

  “Yes, Mr. Secretary. She made it clear you were throwing threats around. Frankly, I’d love to see you try and stop me at this point, but the time for fun and games has passed. Let’s get down to business. What are you looking for?”

  “Charming as always, Adan. I’m well aware you’ve already agreed to give the Chancellor one half of the million passenger slots you’ll have on that spaceship. I’m sure you’re worried I’m here to grab a large chunk of the others, but the good news is I want zero of them. What I need instead is enough space for five million of our citizens to travel in an Uploaded state. This takes a tiny fraction of the space and zero consumable resources as compared to transporting live bodies. In addition to the Uploaded, we’ll also need to bring along a couple of our Skin production facilities and sufficient feedstock to generate new Skins when we ultimately get resettled on a new planet of our choosing.”

  It took all of Adan’s willpower to not shudder when the man referred to Skins. The discovery of consciousness transferral a hundred years earlier created the schism which ultimately birthed the West and East blocs and their longstanding enmity. The people of the East were willing to toss aside their bodies in the name of reducing their ecological footprint while the West held true to the belief that saving Earth was useless if it required people to discard their physical humanity in the process. An uneasy truce was held together only through the certitude that any amount of modern warfare would tip the planet into immediate collapse. Instead of all-out conflict, a never-ending stream of low-level clashes and espionage had kept the two sides at each other’s throats for generations.

  Markev had battled on the front lines of those skirmishes before hiring on with Adan and still bore significant scars—both physical and mental. His assistant’s glare practically burnt a hole in the side of his face, but Adan was unable to meet Markev’s eyes. He focused on the General Secretary’s instead which did not blink as he responded.

  “That’s an eminently reasonable request, Mr. Secretary. I will agree to it in exchange for my unreasonable request. This is non-negotiable, sir. A simple yes or no will suffice. You will send me your top scientists and engineers, in bodily form, to help me adapt your Upload technology for a critical need we have. What say you, sir?”

  The General Secretary’s eyes narrowed and he averted his eyes to someone off camera for a handful of seconds. Finally, he turned back to the camera and spoke a single word before the connection was cut and the view of Earth returned.

  “Yes.”

  Adan exhaled. This had represented the last potential hurdle that might otherwise have proven insurmountable. Pounding footfalls approached, and Adan turned to find Markev charging like a wild bull. The giant bodyguard grabbed Adan by the elbows, pinned his arms to his sides, and lifted him a meter off the deck. The man’s face burned crimson with rage.

  “What in holy hell was that about? Why did you just agree to allow those creatures on our spaceship? What problem do you have which you legitimately believe is best solved with the help of a monster like that?”

  Adan lowered his voice to a whisper. “I’m sorry, Markev. I’m sorry. I know how upsetting this must be for you. If you can please put me down, I’ll explain.”

  Markev glared at him silently for nearly a minute and then dropped him to the deck. Adan rubbed at the spots where his arms had been held and envisioned the bruises which were surely forming. Finally he spoke in a calm, measured tone.

  “Of course I’m aware of your personal history with the General Secretary. And you have to know I want nothing to do with him or anyone else in the East. But you also know what we’re up against. You’ve seen the alien spacecraft that have visited Earth. If we don’t have a way of protecting ourselves when we head out there, then all of this work will have been for nothing. There’s one best way to do that.

  “Aircraft carriers revolutionized warfare back in the twentieth century as mobile military bases that projected tremendous destructive power thousands of kilometers in all directions. We must become the spacefaring equivalent. If we don’t have tactical fighters to hold off attackers well away from the asteroid, then we’ll be dead the first time we encounter hostile aliens. The human body can’t withstand enough g-forces to be useful when piloting at the kind of speeds we need, and you know as well as I do that we may never be able to adapt the inertial dampeners to something as small as a fighter. I’ve evaluated this from every angle, and the only solution I can see is to use some form of temporarily transferred consciousness to get pilots into the fighters. If there was any other way I’d take it, and I’m still hoping for a miracle with the dampeners, but I don’t want to rely on a long shot. Do you understand?”

  Adan stared imploringly at his bodyguard. Markev had been clenching and unclenching his fists throughout the explanation, but the man’s facial expression had softened ever so slightly by the end. He paused for a few seconds once Adan was done speaking and then nodded curtly and strode out of the compartment.

  Adan turned back to the panorama. Their orbit had taken them over the western hemisphere. Another megacyclone was delivering punishing ocean surges to areas which had been hundreds of kilometers inland only a century earlier. Humanity’s time on Earth was nearly over—one way or another.

  26

  That sounds like a great plan, Boss.

  “Ants?”

  The Boss smiled at Imair before he replied. “Yes, Madam President. That’s our nickname for them. It’s a species of alien the Ship has encountered many times over the last thousand years or so. They bear a striking resemblance to the ants we have in our biomes, other than being about a thousand times larger.”

  “Interesting. Tell me about them.”

  The Boss took out a slate and called up an image.

  “We’ve seen two different body types in our interactions with these aliens. The dark green and brown one on the left in this image is what we call a worker. They stand about two meters tall and are incredibly docile. You can walk right up and grab one of its three-fingered hands, and it will act as if you don’t exist. It’s almost like they can’t see you’re there, though given how their heads are entirely covered with eyeballs that seems unlikely.”

  The Boss gestured to the right of the image. “This green and red striped specimen is what we call a warrior. As you can guess by the name, they’re anything but docile. They stand about four meters and are fierce and deadly. The only weapon we’ve ever seen them use is a blade like this one is holding here, but they can throw it with accuracy and killing force that rivals our blasters.”

  “What about their technology, Boss? Their more advanced weapons? Their spacecraft?”

  “That’s what’s most intriguing about these bugs, ma’am. We’ve never seen any of it. We’ve encountered them hundreds of times all across the universe, but every single instance has been on a planet where there’s a colony that’s living a simple, agrarian existence. Other than the bladed weapons, the only tools we’ve ever seen are basic digging implements.”

  Imair was quiet for a min. The time since their scout ship returned had been a whirlwind of info
rmation she was still processing. It all started with the planet itself. True to its classification as a nine on the habitability scale, pictures of the planet took her breath away. Blue oceans of fresh, drinkable water separated two large continents and another dozen smaller ones.

  The most exciting information was that preliminary scans revealed the presence of the colonists. This was tempered by the realization they had scattered into pockets on one of the continents. The colony itself was dead and deserted. Even more disconcerting was the discovery of the alien presence.

  Now it was time to consider all of that information and finalize a course of action. Imair was nearly settled on what she wanted to do next but needed one final clarification.

  “Does it appear that any of the ants are on the same continent as the colonists?”

  “No, Madam President. This is the largest ant colony we’ve ever encountered, but the aliens are located exclusively on the other large continent.”

  “Thank you, Boss. This has been helpful. Do you have any recommendations for next steps?”

  “Yes, ma’am. Our drones are completing a survey of both the colonists’ continent and the ants’ continent. Assuming that everything looks as expected, then we can send a mission to the surface to investigate the colony and make contact. I’ve advocated previously that we should not engage with any colonists, but I no longer believe that is prudent given what we’ve seen at all of the other colonies. We need to learn what is going on with the people we’ve left behind.”

  “That sounds like a great plan, Boss, and I agree. You went along with some of the earlier expeditions to the empty colonies, so I’m curious if you’re planning to go down with this one?”

  “Absolutely, ma’am.”

  “Excellent. Then I will join you as well.”

  The man paused and Imair waited in the uncomfortable silence. She no longer had a window into his thoughts after sharing her observations about his cigar-chewing giveaway one evening over drinks a couple months earlier. It was intended as a signal of trust and had seemingly landed in a positive fashion since his attitude toward her had become far more generous in the time since. The chewed, ragged tip of the Boss’s cigar peeked out from the pocket of his shirt. It glistened with saliva which bore witness to how he had only recently removed it from his mouth. Clearly, he had taken the feedback and modified his behavior accordingly. Finally, he spoke.

  “With all due respect, ma’am, I think that’s an incredibly bad idea. Even after extensive drone surveys, we never know what kind of danger we might run into down on the surface of a planet.”

  Imair stared at the man intently for a few secs before challenging him. “I’m sorry, Boss, but I’m confused. This planet was extensively surveyed prior to the colony being established, so we’re already highly knowledgeable about its flora and fauna. Yes—there are now aliens present, but you just explained to me that we’ve encountered these aliens hundreds of times across a thousand years, so we are well familiar with them. The aliens are exclusively located across a giant ocean, and we are certain they have no technology or other means to cross it. The biggest unknowns in the equation are the colonists themselves, right?”

  The Boss retained a stoic expression, but he nodded his head and Imair continued.

  “So, are you telling me it will be too difficult for a group of Marines to keep me safe from a bunch of colonists who were not left any weapons more powerful than stunstiks? Who appear to have abandoned their colony and all of its technology to live a primitive life in the jungle?”

  “Ma’am—the people I’m bringing down are all trained Crew. The Marines are experts, and even the Flight team are all sufficiently competent to handle any surprise we might encounter. Bringing along a civilian, even someone I know to be as capable as you, strikes me as a bad idea. Besides—isn’t it important that you remain up here to continue to inspire the civilian population?”

  “OK, Boss, that last bit wasn’t funny at all. I’m fully aware I might be safer strolling naked through that ant colony than walking through parts of the Ship right now. Our civilians are getting restless, and I’m sure you’ve heard how violent things have become in some of their sectors. They need a positive message to help maintain their hope. The best way I can deliver a message like that is if I see whatever is happening down there first hand. If I can touch and smell a planet that is even more beautiful than Earth, it will help me motivate the civilians to stay hopeful and excited about this journey. Do you understand?”

  “I understand, Madam President, but my reservations remain. I’ll support your decision and do everything necessary to keep you safe down there.”

  “Thanks, Boss. One last thing. I need Rege to come with us too.”

  A look of absolute distaste crossed the Boss’s face, but he quickly recovered and nodded. “By all means, ma’am.” He turned and left.

  Imair understood why the Boss didn’t want anything to do with Rege. Truth be told, she didn’t either. She had become more and more convinced he was a prime source of the agitation that was roiling the civilian sectors, however, and she refused to leave him on the Ship unsupervised. He’d either come around to supporting the message she wanted to deliver after visiting the planet or perhaps he wouldn’t return from it.

  27

  You got to wear ChamWare?

  Thrilled he would get to keep it down for the first time in eleven months, Zax savored a bite from one of his favorite pastries. The non-stop pace of daily Transits had prevented him from eating real breakfast other than a couple of times when he broke down and did so in spite of the knowledge he would toss the meal a few hours later. With no Transit scheduled, Zax loaded up his tray and then sat at his usual table.

  The prospect of actual food was exciting, but Zax’s heart ached at the memories it triggered of raucous meals where he sat with Kalare and listened to her nonstop stories. Unfortunately, their interactions since the last colony visit had been infrequent and generally unpleasant. Zax had hoped a rapprochement was in the offing when they met for breakfast to celebrate Kalare’s graduation from the Pilot Academy and both of their advancement from Theta into Kappa Cadre, but the meal swiftly turned into a disaster. It started when the Boss somehow chose that morning to visit the Crew mess for the first time in months. After the Omega stopped by their table, Kalare started to grill Zax about his feelings for the man. It was a test he failed, and she stormed off hollering how she wouldn’t stand by and suffer again if Zax was determined to throw his career away.

  As had become the new pattern, Mase sat across from him in Kalare’s old seat. Zax was grateful to have Mase to sit with, even with the boy being less conversational than he was. There were many days where an entire meal went by without any words uttered between them other than quick greetings and farewells. The boy’s outward demeanor was different than usual, so Zax asked if anything was wrong.

  “I’m nervous about this trip down to the planet. I’ve got a weird feeling in the pit of my stomach.”

  “I understand, Mase. I was a wreck the first time I left the Ship. Is there anything in particular you’re worried about?”

  “I don’t know how I’m going to handle all the open space. I experienced massive vertigo in the simulator whenever we did surface-based exercises. All of that empty space messes with my head. You’d think I would have the same problem when I’m flying. I suppose it’s feeling a complete lack of control when I’m walking on the surface. I know I can handle anything that happens when I’m on stick in a fighter.”

  Zax smiled at the boy. “You kicked butt on that last surface simulation we did, so I’m sure you’re going to do fine. Besides—there really isn’t much you have to worry about. Help Kalare drive the bus, and then let the Marines do their thing. They aren’t going to let you get into any trouble. As long as you listen to them, at least.”

  “Thanks, Zax. Does it bother you that I’m flying down with Kalare?”

  “No.” Zax was lying and they both knew it. “I’m sur
e it’s only because I’m Maverick, and Major Eryn wants to keep the best co-pilot to make things easier for herself.”

  “Ha, ha. You’re funny. What have you heard about the planet?”

  “Probably not much more than you. It was great to hear gravity is only 90 percent of what we’re used to on the Ship and the oxygen levels are almost a perfect match. The last time I traveled to a planet, it had more gravity and less oxygen and that made things way more challenging. I also had to wear ChamWare which I’d just as soon avoid for the rest of my life.” Zax shuddered at the visceral memory of overheated claustrophobia.

  Mase’s mouth opened wide. “You got to wear ChamWare? Cool! We’ve never talked about that trip. What was it like?”

  Zax really wasn’t in the mood to relive one of his most painful memories, but he owed it to Mase to share at least a little. His ranking atop the Leaderboard had never been better thanks to the boy’s ability to go in and clean out all of the silly automated demerits that previously had dragged him down. Sometimes Zax experienced a twinge of guilt about allowing Mase to work his magic, but then some Omega would hit him with an unfair slug of demerits and he would rationalize that it all evened out in the end. He dove into the story.

  “It was a couple of years ago. The Boss set up a competition between me and Kalare to determine who he was going to mentor. He ran us through crazy training with the Marines and this Flight officer named Mikedo to see how we would each perform under intense pressure. This all happened at the same time we were preparing to make Landfall, so the last part of the training was a trip down to the surface to help evaluate a potential colony.”

  Emotions started to well up as Zax recalled all of those events. For the first time ever, the sadness did not revolve around memories of Mikedo. Instead, Zax found himself mourning the loss of his friendship with Kalare. He was so often frustrated by her quirks when they first met, but, over the course of that training and what came afterwards, he grew quite fond of her. He missed her something fierce but pushed those feelings aside so he wouldn’t have to discuss them with Mase. He continued.