Terradox Quadrilogy

by Craig A. Falconer

  The general layout of the community evoked thoughts of Terradox’s Sunshine Springs, the obvious inspiration, albeit the bigger and better Starview Springs contained significantly larger houses with significantly larger spaces between them. Many had swimming pools, but not all. Some likewise had roof terraces with views of the plains — even more reason to bring in those giant herbivores, Chase thought — but all were spacious and beautifully designed. He imagined that these differences were likely in place to reward productive research or other useful contributions, with these kinds of perks relatively straightforward to offer. And with even the base level of accommodation being so luxurious, he doubted there would be too much resentment over such differences.

  Planning decisions on things like this were rarely easy, and Chase didn’t envy those involved in making them.

  Aware that his movements were being tracked and recorded, that he was working to a tight schedule, and most importantly that there were plenty of other things for him to see, Chase didn’t land in the residential area.

  Things changed greatly after a few more stops as Chase passed over a genuinely colossal domed structure that must have been twenty times the size of Little Venus. He gazed down in awe as it went on and on and on, like an optical illusion begging his mind to doubt his eyes. It crossed his mind that this might have been a physical structure with a self-contained atmosphere of its own, perhaps designed as a shelter of sorts should there ever be a minor issue with Arkadia’s wider artificial atmosphere.

  The next empty canary cage lay in the Shipyard area, an RPZ-like development designed specifically for the construction of spacecraft, probes and future embryonic romospheres. This was where Rachel would spend a lot of her working days when everything was up and running.

  As Arkadia’s population grew over time, Chase knew that Ferrier-class spacecraft would be fabricated at the Shipyard as and when required to meet potential demand. Ferriers which delivered the initial founding population would park in the spots he’d already seen behind Arkadia Central Station, but greater life-boat capacity would naturally be needed when the population expanded.

  Prior to that would come the launching of a probe to the asteroid Nisha had mentioned off-the-record prior to his departure, and then the so-called minisphere which would hold a strategic position halfway between Earth and Arkadia. The Shipyard had an exciting future ahead of it — perhaps more so than any other area of the new world — and its layout more than lived up to Chase’s hopes.

  There were several large buildings, each of which had a multitude of subterranean levels providing views of the enormous ‘hole’ they all surrounded where huge projects would be developed.

  Chase said goodbye for now to the latest group of canaries he placed in a cage near the Shipyard, and was unsurprised though admittedly disappointed that his wristband didn’t unlock any of the nearby buildings’ entrances.

  Back in the TE-900, he checked his list and saw that his next stop, and his last, were relatively nearby. He initially opted to drive to prolong his adventure but took off after only a few minutes; with an arrival at the Arkadia Sands beach area within easy reach, there was only so much nothing he could endure.

  Over the years, and even before he met them, Chase had heard the stories of the original Terradox exploration. One point which always held the public’s interest was the moment when Holly and Grav, Harringtons in tow, had stumbled upon the beach that later became known as Terradox Sands.

  And even though Chase knew both where he was and what he was about to find, neither of which could have been said of Holly’s group twelve years earlier, nothing could have prepared him for the postcard-perfect view that emerged after fifteen minutes at full speed.

  Chase didn’t fly directly over the beach and instead followed his instructions to land well before it and drive under a tunnel-like entrance which took him either through or under the first mountains he’d seen on Arkadia so far, which existed in apparent homage to those which similarly surrounded Terradox Sands.

  A vast sea came into view before the sand, and Chase didn’t have any vivid mental images to relate to the clarity of the tropical-blue water, let alone any adjectives to describe it. His jaw was slack with wonder as he parked at the edge of the access tunnel, ready to unload his only water-bound cargo in the appropriate spot.

  He removed his shoes and socks to feel the heat of the sand and the relaxing lapping of the impressive tide. It astounded him when he stopped to think about how all of this was possible, and he couldn’t even imagine what Holly must have been thinking when she stumbled upon something similar after crash-landing on Terradox while travelling between the supposedly empty space between Earth and Venus.

  Besides the tide and the utterly incomprehensible volume of water, the shape of the beach also impressed Chase. For although it had looked circular from above, on the ground it felt like he was standing on a long, straight stretch of sand. In an effort to buy himself some guilt-free leisure time, he promptly dealt with his huge cargo container, unsure exactly what kind of microbes or whatever else he’d been asked to dump but proud and not a little relieved to have done it.

  Strolling along the golden sand, Chase concluded that the beach really was straight. It was also very long, taking him a good while to cover on foot. He reached a cove and headed back, where he was eventually unsurprised to find an exact replica at the other end.

  It’s like an octagon, or something, he realised. Way more than eight sides, but that kind of idea.

  He was correct on both counts: the beach, entirely surrounded by mountains, was indeed divided into straight sections — and way more than eight of them. The number was in fact forty, and a large island in the middle, teeming with palm trees, ensured that no one could see the beach opposite to the one they were on. The coves likewise blocked off adjacent beaches, meaning that all anyone could see from the ground was the sand, the ‘sea’, and the beautiful island in the middle.

  Only when Chase left the beach and took off again a full thirty minutes later did he get a direct bird’s eye view of Arkadia Sands. It looked incredible from the sky — truly immaculate, like concept art for the perfect holiday destination — and this view added a new layer of appreciation to the genius of the design. He was glad he had seen it from the intended perspective first, and began to think that Holly had probably instructed him to drive through the tunnel rather than fly in precisely for that reason; so that his first view of the beach would be the right one.

  He made a mental note to remember to thank her.

  In a TE-900 that was significantly lighter than when it set off, Chase prepared for his final drop-off of the day. Before too long he landed next to a fairly nondescript security centre which would soon be run by the ultra-capable Peter Ospanov, then stepped out to place his final canaries in the waiting cage.

  But as soon as he stepped out, he stepped back in.

  Behind him, the canaries chirped unhappily until the door had been re-closed for several seconds. Chase got ready to open the door again as a test, holding his nose in anticipation of the offensive smell that had caught he and the birds by surprise last time.

  Sure enough, the opening of the door agitated them greatly once again.

  With his suspicion confirmed, Chase closed the door and used his wristband to call Rachel.

  “Hey, stranger,” she answered. “Is that you done at last? I got on fine with the telescope. I mean, I’ve been to Terradox and back a few times since then, but I’m here now.

  “That’s great,” he mumbled uneasily, humour the last thing on his mind. “But listen, I need you to come out to the security centre, where I am now. Come in the Wasp.”

  “What?” Rachel asked, her tone falling very suddenly. “You want me to fly the Wasp all the way out there? Why?”

  “It’s just…”

  Momentarily stuck for words, Chase Jackson took a look around. His eyes searched fruitlessly for an explanation outside before settling back on the uncomfortabl
e canaries.

  “Rachel,” he gulped. “I don’t know what it is, but something’s definitely not right…”

  fifteen

  By the time Rachel arrived at the security centre — no short trip from Arkadia Central Station — Chase had made a degree of progress.

  Having driven slowly around the security centre in search of a clue, he eventually spotted a small group of around ten weak-looking bush-like plants growing in the shadow of one side of the building, under a low overhanging ledge. He opened the door briefly, and was absolutely positive that the odour was indeed stronger here than it had been from further away.

  The canaries reached new levels of noise, all but sealing it.

  Those plants?, he thought, still doubting their collective conclusion. Really?

  Chase let Rachel know about this when the Wasp came into view, using their new-generation wristbands’ flawless communications ability to loop her in.

  He described the smell as overpowering, like a remarkably intense version of the kind of odour that might be emitted from the inside of a recently-snapped flower stem. He told her that what troubled him most of all wasn’t so much the smell itself, however, but rather the very presence of unexpected plants in this area.

  Chase left his TE-900 when the Wasp touched down, promising the increasingly agitated canaries that he’d be back soon, then ran over to climb in. He signalled for Rachel to hold her nose while he ran, and she was happy to oblige.

  Once he was inside the two-seater Wasp, she lowered her hand from her nose and almost vomited at the lingering smell that had crept in with Chase.

  “Told you,” he said. “But apart from knowing that those things stink like high hell, I’m stumped.”

  Rachel pinched her nose with her fingers again. “Come on, Chase,” she said, her voice nasal thanks to the placement of her fingers, “your dad is a botanist. Your dad is the botanist! You must know something about plants?”

  Chase upturned his palms. “I don’t even know why we need these plants. We don’t need them for oxygen and we don’t need them for food. They don’t even look good. Why are they here at all? Any ideas?”

  “No happy ones,” Rachel said while fiddling with her wristband. “Okay… I’ve engaged my protective cloak and I think you should do the same. We’re too close to those things.”

  “My cloak? Why?”

  “Because they could be poisonous. Wait… you haven’t touched any of them, have you?”

  Chase shook his head, thankful to be able to do so truthfully. “But why would they even be here if they were poisonous?” Chase asked, voicing the obvious question while nevertheless following her advice.

  “That’s the thing,” Rachel replied, taking an easy step towards the plants. “Something tells me they’re not supposed to be.”

  Even with his cloak now protecting him from further exposure to any potential pathogens, Chase Jackson’s instinctive reaction to the suggestions that the plants before him shouldn’t have been before him was to back away. “We’ve been breathing the air,” he said. “I’ve been here for an hour, right beside them. Why the hell… how the hell… I mean… just… what do you mean they’re not supposed to be here? We created this place from scratch! Are you saying someone has messed with the embryonic code?”

  “I didn’t mean anything like that,” Rachel stressed, walking to Chase’s side and leaning back against the Wasp in an effort to convince him both that she meant what she was saying and that she didn’t think there was anything to worry about. “The cloaks are a sensible precaution until we get some data back, but I’m willing to bet that the data will tell us these things’ seeds were blown here by the wind. I didn’t mean they shouldn’t be here as in Arkadia, I meant here as in here. There’s hardly any light where they are, for one thing, and this doesn’t look like the specially engineered growing soil we normally use these days.”

  Chase visibly relaxed. “I guess the shape of those rocks means that stuff blowing in the wind could gather here. But when do you think we’ll have some data to confirm your theory?”

  “As soon as we gather a sample and take it back to the Karrier,” she said. “There’s a basic sample collector in the Wasp’s field kit.”

  “I’ll get the kit,” Chase said.

  “And the sample?”

  Chase glanced at the plants then back to Rachel. He pointed towards them with a grin on his face. “Well, I really wouldn’t mind if you want to be the one to take the lead…”

  They both laughed, breaking a tense atmosphere as Chase went back inside the Wasp to fetch its field kit. He emerged quickly in a light EVA suit, not surprising Rachel with what she considered a sensible abundance of caution, then proceeded to gather samples from two of the plants — one that looked healthy and one that was evidently dying. Chase was glad that the kit’s extendable ‘grabber’ allowed him to do this without his glove having to touch the potentially poisonous plant, and even more so that the sample containers could be placed directly in the Karrier’s bio-chemical analysis unit without having to be opened. That apparatus was designed for safely analysing even potent biohazards, so was more than sufficient for the task at hand.

  After gathering some soil from around the out-of-place plants, Chase placed all three sealed containers in his Wasp and took off his EVA suit.

  “I’m going to call my dad on the way back and tell him to expect some data soon,” he called out to Rachel. Rather than fly back together and leave one Wasp out in the open, they had naturally opted to each fly one of the vehicles.

  She gave him a thumbs up. “I’ll talk to Robert Harrington and tell him the same thing. We might as well have a team on Earth look over this too, right?”

  “We don’t report to anyone on Earth,” Chase said, using a neutral but decisive tone. “We’ll send the data to the colony and see what comes back. If this went to Earth, there would always be the risk of someone blowing it out of all proportion and making it sound like we’ve found something really bad. I’m not talking about whitewashing anything, we just need to make sure the right people do the analysis. Does that make sense?”

  “Understood,” Rachel replied. “I’ll see you back at the Karrier. Don’t go slow for my benefit… just get back as quick as you can so we can get those samples checked.”

  Chase followed Rachel’s suggestion, glad to hear it, and sped off as fast as the Wasp would take him.

  He wasted no time in sending a voice message to his father, not even thinking about what hour it would be on Terradox and what Christian might be doing. His words would travel from his Wasp to the Karrier then ultimately across a vast expanse of space until reaching Christian’s wristband on Terradox. In one ironic sense, the total effortlessness of this long-distance communication made the unavoidable delay feel more pronounced than may have been the case if it required more cumbersome steps.

  After Chase sent some photographs to Christian along with a voice message which included a breakdown of what he’d found and the coordinates of where he’d found it, the long flight back to the Karrier and the communications delay gave him more than enough time to think about the wider issues raised by the discovery. He agreed with Rachel that there was almost definitely nothing to be concerned about in direct relation to the plants, but the delay in having this confirmed was a point of mild concern in and of itself.

  For while Chase and Rachel had each been able to surround themselves with a protective cloak, they would have been physically unable to isolate a large area around the plants without approval from Terradox. Small matters like the placement of cloaks would not require such approval once Arkadia was fully staffed and on its way — its Habitat Management team would enjoy full autonomy in that regard — but large-scale modifications would be dependent on external approval.

  More precisely, larger modifications would be dependent on passive approval. The essence of this necessary safeguard was that any major change orchestrated from Arkadia, such as a modification to the romosphere-wide
seasonal weather system or a moderate change in its direction of travel, could be halted by Rusentra liaison teams on both Earth and Terradox within twenty-four hours of its execution. The liaison teams had essentially been granted veto power over anything which could potentially cause lasting problems, to guard against the minuscule but non-negligible prospect that control of Arkadia could one day be hijacked from within.

  The bitter experience of David Boyce’s weaponisation of Netherdox and his attempted takeover of the now-defunct Terradox Resort lived long in the memory of all who had witnessed it, and the mark those events had made on the public psyche ensured that the sensible safeguards put forward to prevent any kind of repeat were universally well received.

  The reason a veto-style passive authorisation model was chosen was simple: the alternative model, requiring active authorisation from the liaison teams, would have run the risk of leaving the Arkadian population impotent to make any major changes should any unfortunate circumstances render those teams unable to accede. Rusentra’s best minds had taken great pains to ensure that the veto safeguards could not be overridden, principally by placing Arkadia’s primary control transceiver in an insulated chamber within the reactor at the romosphere’s core — the one place where it could absolutely not be tampered with.

  A reply from Christian came at last as Chase raced over the landscapes that had stunned him on his first flight in the other direction but had passed with barely a downward glance on the return leg.

  “No plants were supposed to be growing in that spot,” Christian’s message began, very matter-of-factly and without so much as a hello, “but after looking at some historic wind patterns I can hazard a pretty good guess that the seeds were blown there, like you thought. They look young and starved of light, which is no surprise. The overhanging rocks blocked that spot from our cloak-cams, so obviously they’ve also been responsible for a lack of sunlight that has caused the seeded plants to struggle. As for the smell you described… I wouldn’t want to make any guesses. There’s nothing to worry about, but until I see the sample data there’s not much else I can say. Send me the data ASAP and I’ll see what we’re looking at.” In the meantime, Christian’s message continued with some general questions about Arkadia with a particular interest in how the trees near the Shipyard were doing.