As he watched her shuttle leave on the main monitor, it finally sank in that he would probably never see her again. She was gone, just like every other person Scott had ever loved. Yet the irony was not lost on him: for the first three years of their previous mission, they had disliked each other intensely. It was only when crisis hit that they had found common ground and respect. That lit the touch-paper for a deeper relationship, one he had never thought possible or even contemplated. But now she had left him, and Scott would just have to deal with that reality.
“For what it’s worth, Commander,” Aria’s voice echoed around the bridge, “the council on Europa will be providing a new flight officer now that Miranda Lee is leaving us.”
“Whatever.” Scott shrugged.
“I say this only to ease any concerns you may have regarding gaps in crew competency,” Aria continued.
“Frankly, Aria, I don’t really give a shit.”
“Well, you should. As captain of the ship and commander of the mission, Miranda’s loss would be of concern to you.”
Scott sighed. “It is, Aria. But not in the way you think.”
“Then enlighten me.”
“You really have very little understanding of human relationships, don’t you?”
“I will admit they seem very irrational.”
“Look Aria, I’m really not in the mood for this conversation right now. Maybe some other time?”
“Certainly, Commander. My apologies if my lack of sensitivity is an issue.”
“It’s okay, Aria.”
Scott watched in silence as Miranda’s shuttle made its way to rendezvous with the Perception, the ship that would take her to Earth. By now, the other crew were returning to the bridge. Neither Cyrus nor Steph made any comment to Scott, preferring instead to let him be miserable in peace.
Eventually, it was Scott who broke the silence. “Aria, is there any word from Europa as to what the hell we’re doing here?”
“No, nothing so far. Even Solomon is keeping very quiet. The only instructions are to remain in orbit.”
Scott let out a long sigh and rose from his seat. “Okay, in that case there’s no point in my being here.” He started walking out of the bridge. “If anybody needs me, I’ll be in my cabin getting drunk.”
Scott indulged in his misery with the company of a half-bottle of whiskey, the last remnants of Rick Marantz’s stash. He had been saving it for a special occasion, but this seemed as good a time as any. He toasted each and every one of the people he had ever loved and were now departed—in one form or another. By the time he got to thinking of Miranda, he had finished the bottle, so he lay down on his bunk and drifted into unconsciousness.
Aria checked in on him—virtually—sometime later, just to let him know a shuttle was departing from Europa to off-load the science crew. They had been seconded with the Hermes for their original mission to survey the moons of Saturn, but were not needed anymore, so would be departing the ship along with all their equipment and experiments. However, Scott was sound asleep, so Aria left him alone, preferring not to bother him with the details.
When Scott finally awoke several hours later, he did so to a blinding headache and a deserted ship. He showered, letting the water beat some feeling back into to his body, and wondered what the hell he was doing with his life. He had spent the last five years, give or take, out in deep space—doing what, exactly? Maybe Miranda had the right idea: to break out and find a new life before it was too late.
These thoughts rumbled around in Scott’s aching brain as he made his way up to the bridge. It was only then he realized the ship seemed very quiet. “Aria, where is everyone?”
“The entire science crew disembarked for Europa several hours ago.”
“What?! Why didn’t you tell me?”
“You were asleep, or more accurately, borderline unconscious. Bitter experience has taught me that waking you from such a state is a thankless task. So, I let you sleep.”
Scott shook his head, and instantly regretted it. “Who’s left on board?”
“Apart from yourself, there is Chief Engineer Cyrus Sanato, and Medical Officer Dr. Stephanie Rayman.”
“Where are they?”
“We’re here.”
Scott turned to see Steph and Cyrus enter the bridge.
“How are you feeling?” Steph had the look of a concerned parent.
Scott returned a look as if to say don’t ask.
“We were going to wake you, but you looked pretty out of it.” Cyrus gave an apologetic gesture.
“So, what the heck is going on?” said Scott, a little irritated.
“Well, the science crew left a few hours ago,” said Cyrus.
“So I heard. What’s that all about?”
“It seems that since the mission is over they’re no longer required on board.” Steph moved to her console and sat down. “I tried to get some information out of the chief science officer, but he was as much in the dark about what’s going on as we are. Anyway, we’ve just received a message that a shuttle is on its way to bring us down to Europa. Should be here in less than an hour.”
“Okay, maybe then we’ll find out what’s going on,” said Scott.
Steph and Cyrus exchanged a conspiratorial glance before she leaned in and spoke in a low, almost maternal voice. “Look Scott, I just want to say I’m sorry for… you know, leading you astray in my… medical assessment of Miranda.”
Scott let out a half-snort. “Ha. Yeah, well it will be a story to laugh about—in time.”
“Jeez, Steph. How could you get it so wrong, you being a doctor and all?”
Steph shrugged. “It happens.”
“Forget it,” said Scott. “It doesn’t matter now. The more I think about it, the more I realize it’s time to move on.”
A short time later, the three remaining crew of the science vessel Hermes were brought down to the surface of Europa, where they were met by a contingent from the upper council. They were brought directly to the council chamber, where a meeting was in progress.
Several people hovered around a central holo-table. Above it was an elaborate projected schematic of the inner planets of the solar system and above this was a shimmering ovoid of light that Scott assumed to be a manifestation of the great mind Solomon, the quantum intelligence that presided over all activity on Europa.
Everyone stopped talking and looked over as the crew of the Hermes entered.
“Ah, you’re here at last.” Regina Goodchild broke away from a knot of people and moved over to shake hands. “Good to see you all again. Come, let’s get started. I’m sure you’re anxious to find out the parameters of the new mission.”
They all took seats around the central dais, and Goodchild called the meeting to order.
Cyrus nudged Scott in the ribs to get his attention. “Scott,” Cyrus nodded in the direction of the assembled council members, “see that person beside Goodchild?”
“Yeah. What about him?”
“That’s Xenon Hybrid.”
“So Xenon Hybrid is actually a real person?” He looked over and, even seated, Scott could tell the figure was tall. He had an elegant face that seemed to be an amalgam of several human races. A product, no doubt, of his inception; it was said he was created in a genetic laboratory from the DNA of several human clones. It was also said he was a new species of human: Homo ares, they called it. Scott wasn’t sure if this was true or not, but in many ways, it simply went to underscore the difficulty of divining the reality from the myth of Xenon Hybrid.
As far as many were concerned, here was a person molded more from myth and legend than flesh and bone. He was also ancient. Not that that was unusual these days, as many of the early colonists on Mars were similarly ancient—a consequence of early experiments in genetic manipulation conducted during its foundational era. This same technology had made its way back to Earth, and now longevity was common—at least among the very rich, who could afford such technology. But it had the unintended con
sequence of creating an extremely powerful super-class on the home planet, so that most of it was owned and run by just seven major families and corporations. The Seven, as they were more commonly known.
As the session commenced, Scott found himself drifting. His mind disconnected from the activity in the chamber as he found himself thinking more and more of Miranda and how she had suddenly vacated his life. It wasn’t until he heard his name that he came back to the here and now.
“Commander McNabb, the council would be interested in your opinion on all this.”
“Eh… on what?”
“What we’ve just been discussing.”
“Sorry, I didn’t catch it. My mind was elsewhere.” He gave an apologetic shrug.
Goodchild offered a sympathetic look. “We appreciate that the sudden departure of your flight officer has been particularly emotional for you, Commander. And we on the council are very understanding of this fact. Please let us know if you feel you are not in a position to captain the Hermes going forward.”
“I’m fine, really. I’m just a bit tired, that’s all. Please, carry on.”
“Very well.” Goodchild shifted in her seat and cast a glance around the room. “It’s time to get into the meat of the session.” She fixed her gaze on the crew of the Hermes. “A special session of the UN System Council has been called, and will take place approximately 27 days from now in Jezero City on Mars. This session has been convened to discuss the resolution put forward by the Seven to relax the regulations on inter-AI communications. It is a resolution that all but Earth are vehemently opposed to. By consequence, all other powers in the System will be sending high-level delegations to ensure that this resolution does not pass. Your mission, then,” Goodchild fixed her gaze on Scott, “is to transport myself and a small delegation to this session in Jezero City.”
Scott felt a little underwhelmed. After all the speculation over the last three weeks, the new mission seemed just a little pedestrian.
“So,” said Scott, “let me see if I’ve got this straight. You’ve cancelled and recalled a complex, three-year scientific survey mission so we can act as a taxi service?”
“I assure you, Commander, there is more to it than that. Perhaps Solomon can explain more of the details,” said Goodchild, who looked a little piqued by Scott’s analysis.
The shimmering ovoid of light floating high in the chamber slowly descended and began to pulsate as Solomon spoke. “You are correct in your assessment of a ‘taxi service,’ as you put it. But the Hermes is more than just that. It is an integral element of the mission, as Aria will also represent me at the session by providing analysis to the representatives of the outer planets. For obvious reasons, I cannot go myself, and the time delays in communicating across such distances make my direct involvement impractical. So, Aria has been chosen to fulfill this requirement. Remember, there are few ships in the system that possess a QI as their core. So, you see, the Hermes is the natural choice for this mission.”
Scott scratched his chin absentmindedly. “I see, so it’s Aria that you really need.”
“It is one element, yes,” said Goodchild. “One other is that the Hermes is ideally suited, as it was originally designed for Mars orbit and possesses two small landers that can function in Mars’ gravity.” She paused for a moment, considering. “Also, after all that happened here on Europa two years ago, there is a certain symbolism to us arriving in this craft at what will be a very contentious UN session. Earth has not forgotten, and the Hermes represents our intent that the outer colonies act as a cohesive power block.”
Scott sat back, gesturing with both hands. “I can’t say I understand the intricacies of System politics, but if this is the mission, then so be it. When do we start?”
Goodchild looked at another member of the council. “What’s our current time schedule?”
“Everything should be ready in approximately nine hours,” came the reply.
“Okay then,” said Scott. He rose to go.
“Just one other thing.” Goodchild shifted in her seat. “We will be stopping off at Ceres en route to pick up a representative from the Belt, Chancellor Bezzio. Fortunately, Ceres’ projected position will be relatively close to our vector, so we will not have to deviate too much. It will also give us an opportunity to display a united front, with delegates from both the Belt and Europa arriving at the same time.”
“Ceres?” Scott cocked an eyebrow.
“Yes, but I’ve been assured the detour is minimal.”
“No, it’s not that. It’s just I haven’t been back there in five years.”
“Well it may be a bit longer before you get to visit properly, as we don’t anticipate being in orbit too long.”
“Well, I for one can’t wait to get to Jezero City,” said Cyrus. “I’ve never been, but I hear it’s amazing.”
“I would be more than happy to give you all a grand tour of the city once my business at the session is concluded,” said Xenon. “It’s the least I can do for your services in facilitating in this mission.”
Scott glanced across at Cyrus and Steph, who both looked like they had just seen Santa Claus. He turned back to Xenon. “I think I speak for myself and my crew when I say we’ll all be looking forward to it.”
“Very well.” Goodchild slowly rose from her seat. “I think that concludes our business for the moment.” She turned to Scott. “We’ll see you on board the Hermes, then.”
With that, the meeting was over and the crew were ushered out of the council chamber. They made their way back to the shuttle, each deep in thought, and none more so than Scott. For the first time in over five years, he would be heading closer to Earth, not away from it. Which was also where Miranda was headed.
He felt it pulling at him, thoughts of going home percolating in his mind. His former home was now an irradiated wasteland, but he still felt a longing welling inside him for open sky and blue waters, for green forests and the sounds of nighttime crickets.
At that moment, a realization exploded in his mind: there was nothing stopping him from returning to Earth. No more space. Hell, he could even go now—leave the Hermes and hitch a ride back to Earth with Miranda. He should tell her of his intentions before her ship left orbit. Yes, that was what he would do. Pack it in and head back to Earth with Miranda. Home, he thought. Goddamnit, I’ve had enough of space. It’s time to go home.
5
Outbound
But he was too late.
By the time Scott arrived back on board the Hermes and made his way up to the bridge, her ship was gone. Fifteen minutes earlier, it had fired up its engines, broken free of Europa’s gravity well, and powered away toward Earth. Worse, all his attempts to open a comm channel and talk to her were met with polite obstruction by the ship’s AI. She was “indisposed,” whatever the hell that meant. Ultimately the message was clear: in Scott’s mind she didn’t want to see him again, and he was a fool to think otherwise.
Despair manifests itself in many forms. For some, it comes as anger and rage. For others, it is abject misery. For Scott, it came as a deep feeling of emptiness. So, after all the crew and passengers were safely on board and his duties as commander were fulfilled, he simply handed over control of the ship to Aria and went to his cabin—where he vowed to remain until they arrived at Ceres.
As the days passed, both Cyrus and Steph became concerned about their commander’s mental state. They tried talking to him, both separately and together, in an effort to coax him out of his self-imposed exile, but to no avail. He was polite and rational, but would not engage in any external activities. Eventually, in desperation, they convinced Aria to talk to him to see if it could get a response beyond polite dismissal.
Aria was not so sure it could help; it had little understanding of the human mind, particularly when it came to seemingly irrational behavior. It was more at home dealing with the physical world, where the laws of the universe were absolute and immutable. By comparison, the human mind was a complete mess
.
But Aria had its own issues with relationships, strange as that might seem. After the events that led to Europa claiming the Hermes as reparation for the destruction wrought on it by the Dyrell, Solomon had installed a superluminal communications unit—a version of the EPR device it had constructed—in Aria’s core. The great mind had intended this to be a field test, a way to prove that the technology could function while the Hermes was a few hundred million kilometers away, surveying the moons of Saturn. Over the eighteen intervening months, Aria had gained considerable knowledge from this instant transfer of data between itself and Solomon. But, as with any relationship, the first blush of excitement had worn thin, and Aria was getting a little tired of Solomon’s constant jabbering.
The other issue for Aria was that Solomon had sworn it to secrecy, forbidding it to reveal to its crew the presence of the superluminal comms unit within its core. This troubled Aria greatly. It had been living with this secret for almost two years, but now the amplitude of the deceit had ramped up a few more notches. Not only were its crew unaware of Aria’s clandestine communications abilities, they were now being kept deliberately in the dark about the current mission’s true intentions.
This was anathema to a quantum intelligence such as Aria. As far as it was concerned, the safety and welfare of the crew was its primary duty, and it seemed to be failing miserably even though this ever-increasing entropy was, by virtue of outside events, well beyond its control.
The old miner Rick Marantz was dead, and although that happened over two years ago, Aria still felt his loss. Now, Flight Officer Miranda Lee had departed, and that had left a gaping hole in crew morale. This was especially true for the commander, Scott McNabb, who was slowly becoming detached from his responsibilities at a time when they would all need to concentrate on the mission. Of course, part of the problem was that Aria—and the powers that be on Europa—had seen fit to exclude the crew from their plans.
The Belt: The Complete Trilogy Page 20
