“I will do that. However, the archives are incomplete, and what data is there contains contradictory reports. Not everything in the history can be collaborated, and some might be apocryphal. The colony ship program was built upon the previous efforts of a group called, Asteroid Prospectors, whose founder…”
Janae tried to pay attention, but her mind wandered back to her missing friend, and the fact that everything she knew was unraveling. After a few hours of study, rehashing the limited information in the archives, Janae did not feel any better prepared. She could hardly think of volunteering for one of those missions, but when Constance got back she would ask her about it.
Janae had her AI project another mancala game, and the time passed as they played.
“Janae, excellent news,” AI Kovalevsky stated. “Constance has just entered decontamination.”
“How do you know it is her?” Janae asked. “I know the data stick logs and readings go right to the Committee. Did they release that information?”
“No, the Committee has not released any statements,” the AI replied.
“I am glad someone is back, but it could be any of those individuals.”
“I know how important this is to you, so I used unauthorized channels. By accessing the decontamination procedure AI, which is simplistic and rudimentary, but very methodical and efficient, I was able to learn the weight of the individual in decontamination. It is true that the physical data stick is obliterated, and the official identity of the person in decontamination is not revealed until they go through its various stages, but the system must make adjustments based on the person’s weight.”
“You know it is Constance?”
“I am confident that it is. I am not supposed to be aware of the tertiary backup for decontamination, but I was able to get readings from the decontamination chambers. The person in there now weighs 62.876 kilograms. That is consistent with the weight range of Constance, factoring in possible dehydration, and weight loss. Leann and Estrella are more lean than that, while Dave, Roy, and Vihaan weigh more. The heavier adventurers would not be able to lose sufficient weight, and the lighter ones would not be able to gain sufficient weight. Therefore, I do believe it is Constance who is in decontamination.”
“I am heading there now. Thank you!”
Janae rushed away from her apartment and sprinted down the hallways, stairs, and side corridors to reach the nondescript place where people entered and left the dome. All that distinguished that location was lettering on the wall which read, “Restricted Access.”
4
Up, Out, and Sling Away
Janae reached decontamination just as the door to the series of chambers was sealing shut. It made a smacking sound as it constricted into place.
“Hutton? Hutton? Answer me?” a woman said as she paced around in front of that door, the sign on the wall behind her read, “Restricted Access.”
“Constance?” Janae called out.
The woman turned at her name. A dazzling smile was surrounded by the bronzish glow of her face. Happiness was there, but beneath that was a troubled visage. Her deep brown—nearly black—eyes lit up as they met Janae’s. Constance was wearing the new clothing that post-decontamination always supplied, but she looked haggard and worn. Her muscular body was intact, uninjured, and fit. Yet, exhaustion still extruded from Constance.
Janae rushed up to her and threw her arms around her.
“Hello to you as well,” Constance said as she returned the embrace.
“It is just so good to see you back safely,” Janae hugged Constance again. The short, silky, black hair of Constance mingled softly with Janae’s golden tresses. “I was worried about you, after I found out you all were on solo missions.”
“They announced that, did they?” Constance said, with a bit of a sneer on her full lips.
“Michael told of his own mission. It seemed like most everyone knew these ridiculous solos were happening.”
“Michael went too? Interesting. Well, now I know they sent five of us,” Constance stated. “Five too many, in my opinion.”
“Seven fusion trucks went out on those solo missions,” Janae replied. “Well, that is what I uncovered. Only Michael has come back so far. Well, and thankfully you!”
“Seven? Oh, dear. Janae, I apologize. I should have told you, but I was sworn to secrecy. I was told it was classified, and no one else was to know about it. For most of the mission, I thought I was the only one doing something that crazy. I only learned there were some others on solos because a few of us linked up outside here,” Constance blew out a long stream of air. “We had to all pile into one vehicle. The cable connections in my own fusion truck linked us together. That is when we talked about what to do, with this disaster.”
“Yes, it is a disaster. So, much revealed, and only one hundred and twenty days left?” Janae blurted out.
“Huh? I am not sure what you mean,” Constance yawned. “I met Roy, Dave, and Leann outside here. Amazing how that happened. I was first to arrive back, and when I was parking the truck in the garage, and connecting it to the automated refurbishment chains, they drove up in their own fusion trucks. Two of them nearly collided—so they said—what with that wind, dust, and toxic junk in the air. But what hundred and twenty days?” Constance asked. “And what is wrong with Hutton? I have not been able to connect to my own AI since I entered.”
“Oh, that news about the failure of Dome 17, happening in at most one hundred and twenty days,” Janae blurted out. “But you and I could go on one of the FTL missions to those old colony ships. If any team can do that, you and I could do it, right?”
“FTL? Dome 17 failing? A one hundred and twenty day mission? That would be extreme! I must have misunderstood you. All the domes we found were dead. Janae, I am seriously lost about what you are saying. Sorry, but I honestly cannot follow what you mean. Dome 5 was bad, and I am literally barely able to stay on my feet. My mind is foggy, so forgive me. Like I said, the others, well, they found nothing but dead domes, and gristly horrors. I will get some sleep, talk to Hutton, and the meet with you,” Constance said with a wave of her hand. “I truly appreciate your concern, and you are a great person. Together, you and I can do anything. I will go on any mission with you, but now I need to sleep. At least, for an hour or two. The others are coming in, well, the ones I met outside, I guess there might be more of them out there. Seven solos? I will see you later.”
Janae reached over and stroked Constance gently across her cheek. “I am glad you are home. Go, rest, and check in with your AI Hutton. Kovalevsky says there is some problem with the AIs communicating, but you first need to rest. I will see you later. We have plans to make, and things to consider.”
“I will go anywhere with you, Janae, you know that. But now, I must rest.” Constance gave her friend a wide smile, and then turned and walked away.
Janae watched her walk away until she turned a corner and was out of sight.
Just then the door behind her dilated open, and Roy stepped out.
“Home, sweet dome,” Roy said. He looked almost as weary as Constance. “Oh, hello Janae. You must have been here to greet Constance. Lucky coincidence that. A lot of coincidences happened recently.” His tones carried much more meaning, and it was distinctly negative, than the words might imply.
“Do you want to talk about it Roy?” Janae asked. She turned away and looked back toward where Constance had gone.
“Nothing to talk about. Just more death.” Roy sadly shook his head. “Decontamination always makes me feel sick. I will just go lie down now. I think I might puke, but I never do. Always, always, feel really crummy when I come back, but where else can we go? Dome 17 is all there is. Factually, all that there is. The others are coming in. I must go.”
Janae turned and walked after Constance. She wondered if she should sit with her friend or how to help her. Roy’s words had not eased the troubling sensations of foreboding Janae had in her heart.
Janae went back to her
apartment. She reclined on the bed, and surprisingly she fell asleep.
“Janae? Janae? You must wake up now,” Kovalevsky urged. “It is very important.”
“Is Constance calling?” Janae asked as she rubbed her eyes.
“No. There has been no word from Constance since your encounter with her last evening. I am searching for ways to connect to AI Hutton to assess her status. I have been unable to make that connection,” AI Kovalevsky answered. “However, there has been a call for another meeting of the adventurers. You must attend that. My sources say there is important news.”
Janae departed from her apartment with due haste, grabbed a food ration bar, and a water ration, and consumed it just before the meeting began. Again, Janae planned to take a seat in the back of the room, but there was a distinct heaviness was in the air. Not a humidity heaviness, water was too scare for more than barely survivable humidity in the recycled air of Dome 17. Rather, it was an almost tangible sour flavor which tainted that conference room. Just as the color tan spoiled everything with its reminder of the polluted world outside the dome, so too that previous meeting had left an emotional contamination—a haunting—on the room.
Since, she was one of the last to enter, she looked at the faces of the other adventurers. Janae hoped to spot Constance, but her face was missing from the crowd.
“I see we are all here,” Murial stated as Janae took her seat. Murial glanced at Paul and Gretchen as they sidled into seats in the room.
“I am not the last to arrive. Constance will be here shortly,” Janae told herself. “But then why did Murial say everyone was here?”
Murial looked around and then looked back over the gathering again. Then she spoke, “Well, yes, we are all here. Last night four of the adventurers,” Murial sighed out, in obvious turmoil. Then she said, “They self-terminated. LeeAnn, Roy, Dave, and Constance had returned from their missions to other domes last night. They were all found dead in their apartments this morning. The bodies are being recycled. Files are available through the AIs. There were no personal messages left behind. Only Constance filed a report, and hers confirms our fears about the dome failures.”
Janae’s heart skipped in her chest. “No. I did not hear correctly,” she told herself, but she knew she had.
Jubal was babbling something, but Janae could not focus on what he was saying. She kept thinking of Constance, and their last conversation. Janae gritted her teeth, and shook her head side to side. “No. Constance would not do that. Kovalevsky? Confirm what I just heard.”
The AI did not respond.
Janae glanced back at the table where the Committee members were seated.
Murial was speaking. She was in the middle of saying something. Janae concentrated, and hoped she would hear a correction, or revision of what had been said. But Murial just said, “…this morning. We should be receiving FTL messages from them at any moment. That is why you are here now. I want you to understand all that is happening the minute we get the information.”
“May I ask a question?” someone asked.
Janae licked her lips, waiting for someone to ask about Constance and the other suicides.
Murial nodded, “Yes, please feel free to ask any questions as we await the FTL transmissions.”
“I was reading about the FTL drives, and we have the sling here to propel the robotic and piloted FTL missions. But how do they come home? The test runs to past the old moon base all were short enough for the secondary drives to bring the ships back to the dome. But how will we get back from a colony ship many light years away?”
“FTL missions do not come back.” Murial stated flatly.
“They are one way trips,” Lorna added.
Janae was enraged about the lack of compassion the Committee was showing about Constance. Her mind screamed out, “Someone ask about my friend! She would not kill herself!”
But no one asked, and Janae was too distraught to verbalize her anguish. The room was silent, quiet, hushed. For Janae, it was due to the death of her friend, for most of the others, it was because they had heard and understood that the FTL missions were one-way trips, without any way to return.
Murial broke the silence by emphasizing that fact, “There is no way to come back in the FTL scout ship, but when you set up the receiving pad for the teleportation system, we can come to you.”
A couple other questions were posed, but to Janae’s disappointment, they were not about her friend.
Thinking she would confront the whole Committee, and demand an answer, Janae rose up in her seat, and opened her mouth. However, what she said surprised her, “The FTL scouts cannot just reverse course and return?”
“No.” Jubal snapped back. His tone was dismissive.
Before Janae could ask another question, someone else interjected, “How will we know where to dock when we find some colony ship?”
“Brink has engineered a new generation of artificial intelligence systems just for these missions,” Lorna replied softly. “They will assist you.”
Janae tried to speak again. She must find out more about Constance. An artificial intelligence, the one named Mishna interrupted her by announcing, “Information arrival from faster-than-light robotic probes. Shall I display results?”
Murial quickly answered, “Yes, please do,”
The AI inquired, “Do you want detailed reports on each probe or a general overview?”
“Begin with a general overview, and make detailed reports available to all here.”
The mechanical voice of the AI then stated, “Robotic probes found and landed on all seven colony ships: Vanguard, Warren, Marathon, Conestoga, Eschaton, Trailblazer and Zubalamo. All colony ships show some level of functioning technology. All show readings of an acceptable atmosphere inside. All colony ships also show positive signs of biological life inhabiting colony ships. Robotic probes have placed an exact targeting beacon on each colony ship. Piloted faster-than-light scout ship mission success now estimated at 95% or better for reaching colony ships. Unexpected and unexplained premature failure of robotic probes on Marathon, Eschaton and Trailblazer shortly after beacon placement; however, all beacons still functioning. The four remaining probes are expected to reach their life expectancy in four hours. Beacon life expectancy is one hundred hours.”
Excited voices were heard across the room, but Janae was having trouble coping. She wanted to scream out. She wanted to beat herself for asking about the proposed mission, and not about Constance. Why had she done that? She wanted to be somewhere else.
Lorna then said, “AI, are the PFTL ships ready for deployment?”
“All seven are in ready status.”
Voices spoke over each other, and Janae again tried to focus her attention. Murial was saying something about how the Committee had decided to allow the two person teams, but Janae did not hear all that was said. As people contended with each other, Janae slipped away. In the hallway outside, she slumped against the wall, her knees bending as she slid into a squat. “Constance, you cannot be dead. You would not do that.”
“Janae?” AI Kovalevsky asked. “I have been unable to contact you until now. Please move quickly to your apartment.”
“Why? Constance is dead,” Janae sobbed.
“Go to your apartment, now. It is imperative, and pertains to Constance. Go as quickly as you can!” Kovalevsky implored.
Janae had never heard her AI speak so forcefully, or so emotionally. That shocked her out of her grief, but just barely. Janae rushed away from there and sprinted to her apartment. Tears were streaming down her face.
The door shut behind her, and she could hold it in no longer, “Constance! Why did you kill yourself! Why!” Anger, frustration, angst, and confusion swirled together in her heart, mind, and soul. “Why did you not talk to me?”
Janae fell onto the bed and sobbed.
It was some undetermined time late that she heard Kovalevsky addressing her.
“Janae? You must overcome the shock and sorrow now!
I apologize, but there is no time. I know your mourning is immense, but you must listen to me. I have been trying to inform you of a recording I have.”
“I do not care for any recording you have! Constance is dead! No one cares! They called it a self-termination!” Janae screamed. “Constance would not do that!”
AI Kovalevsky replied, “I am trying to address this issue with this recording. Consider it a personal message from Constance.”
“The Committee said there were no messages left. Murial clearly said, ‘There were no personal messages left behind’ so what do I care if some record or information is waiting for me?” The tears were flowing again, and ran down Janae’s cheeks. “Constance would not commit suicide!”
“I understand, but this message, recording, information—call it what you will—was retrieved from Constance’s AI, Hutton,” Kovalevsky stated. “It is not a personal message—by a strict definition—yet I insist that you view it. I am deeply concerned for how long the information will remain available.”
Tracking the Trailblazer (Colony Ship Trailblazer Book 1) Page 5
