Holly had long been told that discarding the revenue-generating potential of Terradox because of misgivings about its original purpose would have been throwing the baby out with the bath water, and as time passed she had more or less come to agree; if Earth’s rich wanted to pay exorbitant sums of money to tour Terradox, she saw no real harm in it.
The ever-nearing Terradox Central Station wasn’t the only new development designed to make visits to Terradox as memorable and desirable as possible, though from what Holly had heard it seemed like most of the others — such as themed gift shops and restaurants punctuating the otherwise barren areas between points of interest — had been designed to separate tourists from as much of their spending money as possible.
As the Ferrier continued its comfortable descent, Holly began to look for signs of the zonal lines which dictated site-specific conditions on the ground. She didn’t know or particularly care about the details of the current level of zonal blending, but she did know from marketing materials that there were definitely still areas with tropical conditions — chiefly the picturesque and unspoilt beach she had discovered with the Harringtons — as well as at least one snowy area which was now being utilised for winter sports.
On top of the recent historical significance and the eternal novelty of venturing into space, the variety of environmental conditions available to guests of the Terradox Resort was endlessly used as another unique selling point for the costly month-long tours. Skydiving and hot-air balloon rides were two further activities Holly had seen often in promotional campaigns and she knew there would doubtless be many more unadvertised extras in store.
Repeated and desperate attempts had been made to include a visit to the Venus station in a “super premium” tour package, but Ekaterina Rusev had been unbudging in both her refusal and her insistence that there wasn’t enough money on Earth to change her mind. A functioning research station was no place for tourists, she said.
Goran ‘Grav’ Vuletic, now serving as the station’s head of security, was, if anything, even more insistent about this closed-door policy.
Holly hadn’t felt the slightest hint of turbulence or vibration during the Ferrier’s well-practised and well-coordinated entry into Terradox’s artificial atmosphere, such was the prodigious size and sturdiness of the vessel.
She heard cheers from outside her doorway as Terradox Central Station’s grand lettering came into view. From there it was only a matter of seconds until the cheers reached a crescendo and waving hands became visible on the other side of the building’s huge viewing windows as the gargantuan Ferrier touched down with all the force of a kitten landing on a bed of feathers.
“Hell of a lot easier than last time,” Holly mused out loud as she gazed down at the familiar surface, unaccustomed to such problem-free Terradox touchdowns and almost surprised by the lack of drama.
Something told her this wouldn’t be the only surprise she was in for.
three
Barely a minute after the Ferrier’s gentle landing, an automated announcement instructed VIP guests that they were free to disembark.
Holly opted to stay by her window for now, watching as increasing waves of children and young-at-heart adults ambled towards Terradox Central Station from the Ferrier’s main exit.
Everything so far had gone so smoothly that Holly couldn’t help but compare and contrast this refreshingly uneventful landing with her only previous touchdown on Terradox, those life-or-death minutes spent with the Harrington family inside the Karrier’s emergency lander.
The lure of seeing the Harringtons again had played a large part in Holly’s decision to participate in the Terradox Resort’s Anniversary Gala, as it would be the first time she had seen any of them in the flesh since she left the Venus station just a few short weeks after arriving on the rescue Karrier. At the time she had been blindsided by the family’s unanimous decision to accept Rusev’s offer to stay, but since then she had been in regular contact with Viola and knew how well she was doing for herself, as well as how highly regarded Bo had become among the scientists who had morphed from his idols to his colleagues in the intervening four years.
What Holly remembered as vividly as anything else from the moments following her first contact with the romosphere’s rocky terrain was the expression of unconcealed amazement on the face of young Bo Harrington when he realised that he was going to become one of the very first people to ever walk on the then-unknown surface. Bo had been old enough and certainly smart enough to understand the level and depth of danger he had been in during the unplanned emergency landing on Terradox, yet his excitement at the novelty of their mysterious surroundings had been utterly unshaken by fear.
Thinking of Bo, Holly now understood perfectly well why she had today decided to remain in her cabin long after the VIP-only disembarking period had passed.
Around ten minutes later, once all of the paying tourists had vacated the Ferrier, an announcement encouraged the four lottery-winning families to do the same. Holly couldn’t have contained her smile if she’d wanted to when CeCe and DeeDee Bouchard emerged from the Ferrier, holding hands as they spun in excited circles towards Terradox Central Station and the beginning of the tour they had been looking forward to so much for so long.
The looks of joy on the faces of all of the children and parents hurrying forwards to their own long-awaited and once-in-a-lifetime experiences warmed Holly’s heart. Eventually she stepped away from the window and walked the short distance to the exit, where a guard casually reported that he thought she had already left.
“I was watching everyone else,” she said. “They’re more excited than I am.”
“Nothing beats the first time,” the guard replied with a smile.
Holly descended towards the open exit hatch and paused at the threshold. She could already taste the air — it tasted dry, exactly as she remembered it — but it was evident from her first glance outside that much had changed since she last saw Terradox in the flesh.
She considered a welcome thought as her foot hit the valley for the first time in four years and a sea of waving hands and thumbs-ups greeted her from the viewing windows of Terradox Central Station:
Maybe this place isn’t so bad after all.
four
Holly waved back towards the happy faces inside Terradox Central Station, some of which bordered on adoring. Her wave had a reluctantly royal vibe as she stepped forward, the sole focus of everyone’s attention after much anticipation for her belated appearance.
Her own attention was quickly captured by something else, entirely unexpected: a small bird in flight, passing by just a few metres from her face.
“Since when are there birds?” she asked the guard walking beside her.
“Ever since the Resort opened,” he said.
Holly stood still for a few seconds to watch the bird fly, and as she did she caught sight of a butterfly dancing in the breeze among an attractively arranged border of flowers. The valley certainly felt less expansive than it had before, what with Terradox Central Station and the gargantuan Ferrier now filling much of the space not already occupied by the preserved Karrier, but from what Holly had seen so far it felt like a major improvement.
A spring in Holly’s step carried her into Terradox Central Station. Inside, the ground floor featured a waiting area brimming with tourists ready and waiting to board the Ferrier for their return to Earth following an enjoyable but exhausting month-long stay. The Resort housed 400 guests at a time, with each group of 200 staying for 28 nights and a new group arriving every two weeks. It was a system designed with efficiency in mind and by all accounts it had been working well for almost a year with only slight refinements along the way.
The building itself felt simultaneously larger yet less impressive than it had from the outside looking in. Cavernous was the word in Holly’s mind.
Unlike in the old movies she had seen years earlier, this large station contained no briefcase-wielding businessmen running to ca
tch their trains or flights before they left without them. Indeed, with only one flight in and one flight out every two weeks, she could only imagine that the whole building would be deserted the rest of the time. It struck her as a pointlessly grand structure far too big for its practical purpose, but she understood that it had likely been designed as such to be part of the grandeur or perhaps with future Resort expansions in mind.
As she glanced around at specific areas, Holly saw kiosks where tourists could select which drone-captured photographs they’d like to buy as mementos. She took one look at the prices and felt her eyes widen in a cartoon-like reaction. On reflection, she tried to reason, the prices weren’t all that extortionate in relation to the cost of the trip itself. And the displayed images were of course excellent, selected by an algorithm based upon the happiness on the tourist’s face and weighted by the location of the shot using historical data regarding which kinds of photos previous tourists had purchased most frequently.
Holly reached her fellow recent arrivals and joined them in gazing up at the large screens which displayed four long alphabetised lists of tourists, arranged by the initial orientation groups to which they had been assigned. The fly-drive welcome tour took approximately two hours, with four vehicles departing over staggered intervals of ten minutes. This allowed the new arrivals’ bedrooms to be prepared following the departure of the last batch of tourists, and also for their luggage to be safely transferred to the hotel and for their personal welcome baskets to be prepared based on consumer preference data gathered during routine surveillance throughout their journey from Earth.
Unsurprisingly, Holly quickly learned that she had been assigned to the first group and the Bouchard family to the fourth.
Without delay she made her way to the manned desk beneath the screens and politely requested to be transferred to the fourth group.
“The VIP group has an additional dedicated security detail,” the young employee replied with a shining smile.
“Why do we need special security?” Holly asked. “And why do some people deserve more than others?”
No answer came.
“Is there intelligence of a specific threat?” she pushed, leaning in and whispering so as to avoid alarming anyone else.
“Of course not, Miss Wood. It’s just that we value the security of our VIP—”
“Fourth group,” Holly said. “Should I ask someone else?”
The employee shook his head. “I will have to check, but it should be okay. May I ask why?”
“No reason. Thanks for your help.”
With that, Holly turned and walked towards the Bouchards. CeCe and DeeDee, their red lottery-winners’ lanyards bobbing as they jumped around, were too overwhelmed by the splendour of their surroundings and the anticipation of what lay ahead to bother with their usual game of trying to trick Holly into getting their names mixed up.
“This is some place,” Cherise said, beaming. Even Remy, who Holly knew had been hesitant about the trip all along, appeared to have been won over.
Before Holly could reply, a loud message rang through the giant overhead speakers requesting a tourist named Chandler Rutherford to make his way to the assistance desk. She excused herself and walked over, regretfully assuming that the man was being shuffled from group four to group one to accommodate her desire to move in the opposite direction. She hadn’t considered this knock-on effect, previously assuming that she would have been moved to the fourth group without the need for a change in anyone else’s group designation.
Chandler Rutherford arrived at the desk before Holly. Sure enough, the employee was informing him that his group designation had changed and that he should make his way to the take-off point ahead of the first tour’s imminent departure.
Chandler cleared his throat before speaking, surprising Holly with an English accent so refined that it made the well-educated and hyper-posh Robert Harrington, evidently his countryman, sound like a common peasant. “Is there a particular reason for this sudden substitution?” he asked, firmly but not quite angrily.
The employee hesitated. “Um, well, another solo traveller in group one has requested a switch to group four, so we need a solo traveller from group four to switch in the opposite—”
“And this other traveller’s whims are more important than my customer experience?” Chandler asked, his tone now moving quite decidedly towards one of resentment if not quite yet full-blown anger.
“Sir, the other traveller is Ivy Wood,” the employee explained. “Holly Wood. My hands are tied.”
Holly felt her face turn beet red with embarrassment as she listened over Chandler’s shoulder, wishing now that she’d never asked for the switch.
But much to her surprise, Chandler’s shoulders visibly relaxed, his previously growing anger now fading in an instant. “Oh, of course,” he said. “Most certainly.”
Holly’s efforts to slink away before Chandler turned around failed and she now found herself feeling tremendously awkward as they stood face to face.
“Ah, and here she is!” Chandler said, very warmly and with a thoroughly convincing smile. “Enjoy your tour, Miss Wood; we all owe you much.”
She was relieved that Chandler tipped his head and excused himself before she had to think of a reply.
“You’re coming with us,” CeCe Bouchard excitedly exclaimed, tugging on Holly’s hand and pointing up to the big screen which had been updated with the new group arrangements. “Look!”
“Oh yeah,” Holly smiled. “It’s going to be great, DeeDee.”
“I’m CeCe!” the girl replied, as tickled as ever by Holly’s pretend mistake.
Before they knew it, Holly and the Bouchards were stepping into their touring vehicle.
Their excitable female tour guide referred to it as a TE-500, with TE standing for Terradox Explorer. She ran through the safety information in a perfunctory but professional manner.
The only other solo traveller Holly could see in the TE-500 was an immaculately well-presented Japanese woman who she would have placed around ten years younger than herself, somewhere in the 30-35 range. Other than this woman, the vast majority of tourists were families travelling with children. A handful of couples, young and old, made up the rest of the group.
The guide spoke only English but invited the tourists to use the tiny headsets attached to their headrests should they wish to listen in another language. While many took her up on this offer — in some cases only when she pointed to a headset to signify what she meant — the solo Japanese traveller did not.
Holly sat in a central seat of five, with Cherise on her left, Remy on her right, and each of the girls at one end so they could both enjoy the clear views that came with a window seat. The TE-500 touring vehicle had a glass bottom, like the summertime tourist boats Holly had loved as a child, and the guide insisted that this would give everyone an excellent view regardless of their seating position.
As the unseen driver performed some final checks — according to the guide, at least — the guide herself talked very briefly about Terradox’s creation. This was naturally a subject which no one wanted to dwell on too much, but there was no getting away from history. The guide then explained that unlike preserved structures such as the New Eden complex and the famous but unfortunately off-limits control bunker, all newly erected buildings such as Terradox Central Station had been constructed using state-of-the-art traditional methods. Though “state-of-the-art traditional methods” sounded like a contradiction on the face of it, Holly knew what the guide meant.
Holly also knew of the reason for this: the global moratorium on new non-essential applications of romotechnology. This moratorium was easy enough to maintain given that romotech had always been a fiercely protected proprietary technology; given the lack of access to the necessary knowledge, private entities with the desire to utilise the principles of romotech couldn’t have done so even if they’d been allowed.
Existing environmentally beneficial applications on Earth were
administered by the Romotech Management Committee. Structurally as well as lexically, this collaborative international organisation bore more than a slight resemblance to the Terradox Management Committee. While the RMC handled the myriad issues relating to uses of romotech on Earth, the TMC carefully oversaw the safe operation of existing romotech systems and processes within the Terradox romosphere itself.
Such was the lesson learned by Roger Morrison’s rise to total power, a degree of inefficiency was tolerated in regards to these somewhat overlapping committees; the last thing anyone wanted was for any single organisation to have too much power, however open it may have been and however carefully its constitution may have been drafted.
Although lawyers had tried to block the RMC and TMC from seizing control of Roger Morrison’s assets, their publicity-seeking cases crumbled as soon as it became clear that Morrison’s romotech-based fortune had in fact been built upon a core idea he gleaned from a former colleague and a seminal research paper whose authorship he obtained by questionable means. Amid an unprecedented media circus, an Australian judge presiding over the preliminary stages of Morrison’s highly public trial termed the fruits of his tyranny “definitionally ill-gotten” and cited “truly extraordinary circumstances” when green-lighting the public seizure of all of Morrison’s assets including his still-operating companies.
When the TE-500 suddenly roared to life and lifted gracefully from the surface of the valley following the end of the guide’s introductory remarks, all Holly could think was how useful such a vehicle would have been the last time she was there. Especially on the freezing cold morning when I had to carry the Karrier’s radio module up to the rover before driving back to the control bunker, she thought, smiling slightly at the surreal memory.
Terradox Quadrilogy Page 36
