Cobalt Slave

by Walker, Jon

  Besides that one moment most of Mark’s time on board the fishing vessel had been an unmemorable blur of discomfort, until witnessing the scene unfolding before him now. As the Morning Dove slowly makes its way out of the harbor powered by a steady wind, Mark suddenly hears and feels a deep rumble. It isn’t very loud, but it feels extremely powerful. Turning to find the source, Mark sees a large, billowing cloud at the far corner of the large, crescent-shaped harbor. Suddenly, the rapidly expanding pillow of white breaks at the top. First he sees just a pointy black-and-white tube peaking out from above the newly formed cloud, but then he sees the fire. It is a massive cone of glaring orange fire. Even at this distance with the sun shining, it still looks unbelievably bright. Steadily, the fire moves upward into the sky, leaving a massive trail of exhaust in its wake. It is the first shuttle launch Mark has ever seen. While the others on the boat seem more jaded about what for the people of Ararat is a regular occurrence, for Mark it might be the most awe inspiring thing he has ever witnessed first hand. He remains transfixed on the fire until it disappears into the heavens.

  Mark is used to looking longingly at the amount of wealth and technology depicted in some of the old movies. He was impressed by the great works and original buildings put up by the colonists. The surprising strength and seemingly ageless longevity of these structures were always fascinating to see, but this is different. More than just a display of good design or good materials, this is raw power in motion -- power he could see, hear and even feel in his chest. It was an almost unbelievable amount of power, all harnessed by man for a single purpose. Mark feels a new sense of envy of his ancestors, who had access to so much power they could cross the massive void between the stars.

  In a rare moment of kindness, Captain Reed waits until the shuttle is completely out of sight to go up to the young man, “It is impressive, isn’t it?”

  Still mesmerized Mark answers only with a contemplative, “Yeah.”

  Reed's answer is to slap Mark firmly on the shoulder and say in his gruff commanding tone, “Well, it is gone now, so get back to work.”

  CHAPTER 17

  Same day across the harbor

  Ella Mendes is wearing a paper gown while sitting nervously on a small, hard bed in a small, extremely clean, windowless exam room. Her naturally blonde hair comes down to her shoulders and nicely frames her youthful but rather plain face. The unusual color of her hair gives her an exotic look among the people of New Eden, making her seem more attractive than she would otherwise.

  She is surrounded by several pieces of medical equipment and is quietly enduring the necessary indignity of having two female medical technicians prick, poke and prod her as part of the final pre-launch medical check. She was the model of health at her examination just two weeks ago and also at the one a month before that, so she is confident everything is still fine. She understands that procedure must be followed, but that doesn’t make the whole process any less annoying to her.

  Halfway through the examination the door swings open and on the other side is Catherine Moore, head of the Department of Aeronautics, standing confidently in her official black uniform accented with gold trim. “Would now be a good time for me to talk to my daughter alone for a moment?” she asks.

  The two medical technicians answer by immediately and quietly leaving the room, though Councilmember Moore’s timing couldn’t have been worse. The technicians were actually in the middle of two different long tests that will now need to be restarted from the beginning, but when one of the higher ups in a Department indicates they might want something, it's best to give it to them as quickly as possible.

  Catherine Moore stares at her youngest child with a look of subdued pride. “I can’t say I envy you, Ella," she says in a wistful tone. "Don’t get me wrong, parts of it are truly magical. There is nothing more beautiful than looking down at New Eden with your own two eyes. Being able to touch what remains of the great slowship that brought humanity here is… well, almost spiritual. You can almost feel the history in its hull. It gives you a whole new appreciation of what our ancestors accomplished. But the good stuff fades quickly. It's easy to take something for granted, even incredible splendor, if you're exposed to it long enough. After a month, the monotony can be catastrophic. I was too doped up most of my rotation fighting space-sickness to remember it that well, but you should really try to develop a hobby to pass the time.”

  Ella says to her mother, “Is this supposed to be a pep talk, or are you trying to make me more nervous?"

  Catherine answers sharply, “Neither. It's just good advice.”

  “And that is why you interrupted my final medical exam?” Ella asks.

  Catherine says, “No, I’m here because I want to make sure you know the plan. Both the parts you will share with your two cousins and the parts you won’t. Make sure you know exactly how to divide the stockpile. I don’t want you slipping up by saying something when you are desperately looking for anything new to talk about while trapped up there.”

  Ella answers exasperated, “Mom, I know what to do, we have gone over it a dozen times.”

  Ella can see an instant, stony transformation in her mother that makes her regret her choice of words. Catherine’s mom voice is gone. Instead she adopts the tone of the great Councilmember Moore, the most powerful woman on the planet. Speaking to Ella like her boss, she snaps, “And we will go over it a dozen more times if I deem it necessary! This is about our family. Our Department hinges on you. The whole world does. This is everything. Do you understand?”

  Doing her best to sound apologetic, Ella says, “I’m sorry, mom. I’m just nervous because I’m about to have several tons of controlled explosives underneath me, but I'm ready. I’ve practiced. I’m prepared. I know what to do.”

  Catherine’s tone is noticeably softer when she replies, “Do you know why I rushed your training to put you on this mission?”

  Ella answers, “Because you need at least one shuttle rotation to qualify for a top position in the Department, and there might not be another one for a while.”

  Her mother dismisses that answer with a wave of her hand. “Technically, but the real reason is you are smart, quick on your feet, and I trust you completely, Ella. There is basically no one else I can say that about.” Implied but left unsaid was the acknowledgement that her three older brothers are undependable disappointments to her mother. “Once you are up there I can’t be sure we can communicate securely. I need you to be prepared to use your own judgment if something unexpected happens.”

  Ella, at a loss for words, stutters, “I… I understand.”

  Catherine looks at her daughter with pride then begins scanning the room. “Before we get started let's take care of that hair," she says, her eyes stopping at the electric razor sitting on a countertop.

  Ella feels her chest tighten with even more anxiety. “Really, mom? They said it isn’t necessary.”

  “It isn’t necessary, but it makes life much easier without all that floating around,” Catherine says while handing the razor to her. “Who are you going to be impressing up there? I may remind you your crew is two other women, and both of them are your cousins. Are you going to listen to my advice?”

  Ella looks unhappily at the electric razor but by this point knows when her mom is testing her. This is about more than hair, so Ella grabs the razor and gets to work giving herself a close crop.

  ------

  Still in full uniform, Catherine Moore stands on the ornate observation deck holding a glass of white wine. The only outward indication that Catherine is attending a party is the addition of a pair of ornate gold earrings and a more sculptured than normal hairdo. She is pressed against the balcony railing transfixed on the shuttle. Most of the other individuals on the deck are at the bar, eating appetizers, listening to the live music, or talking in small groups. The bulk of the party guests won’t turn to look at the shuttle until the countdown clock hits ten seconds.

  Catherine wishes she could be down in
the control station for this launch, but the politics won’t allow it. A shuttle launch watching party is one of the most important social events on Ararat for the connected of New Eden, so she unfortunately needs to be up here to schmooze and play politics.

  Even though from this distance Ella is practically only a speck, Catherine watches her daughter step out onto the bridge leading to the shuttle entrance and feels her heart race with pride and fear. Catherine is a practiced leader, so not a hint of either emotion shows on her face. Watching her daughter disappear into the shuttle Catherine thinks, there is someone who has the makings of a great woman -- a person who actually deserves to control this world, unlike the rest of the guests at this party.

  Catherine holds her position, unwavering, for ten minutes throughout all the pre-launch prep, the actual launch, and until the shuttle has completely disappeared from sight. Once she knows her daughter is safely off, she takes a deep breath and begins working the crowd.

  ------

  Same day below ground

  Andrew and two of his companions in the underground refuge slowly add more and more of the raw product from the leaching pits to a large boiling vat when suddenly the ground begins to shake every so slightly with a deep rumble. They all instinctively pause for a moment until it passes after a few seconds. The lead theory among the tunnel dwellers is that the infrequent shaking is the product of a shuttle launch since earthquakes are basically unheard of on the planet. It provides a potential clue about their location but not a very good one, since it would simply mean they were anywhere within a several-mile radius of the Aeronautic Department’s headquarters.

  After a few seconds Andrew yells at the others to get back to work. Andrew is the de facto boss of the operation since he is in charge of slowly introducing more of the raw product, adding the blood and testing to see when this particular batch is ready. Tim stands next to him using a tool to scrape up the salt that forms at the bottom of the vat. Paul’s main duty is to skim off the organic scum that accrues at the top of the mixture and to fetch more raw product for Andrew if it is needed.

  It is long, hot, unpleasant work, but after a few hours the organic scum mostly stops forming on top of the vat. Just to be safe Andrew adds a bit more blood to help bind any remaining organic waste. Watching the small amount of blood dance and transform on top of the boiling mixture, Andrew feels a special sympathy for medieval alchemists. He used to think they were just superstitious fools, frauds, or charlatans -- simply ignorant people from an ignorant age. But after beginning this project and witnessing how a sacrifice of blood can truly purify, Andrew understands why people back then would assume chemistry and magic were one and the same. Even knowing what is happening at a molecular level, Andrew still finds the process eerily transfixing.

  After a few minutes the latest addition of blood only causes a tiny film of scum to develop on the top of the boiling cauldron. Andrew nods approvingly at the result and takes another small sample. He puts a few drops of the hot liquid on a cool stone slab kept nearby. When small fluffy crystals quickly start growing in the drops, Andrew’s smile grows wide. It is now ready.

  Together all three carefully pour the piping hot solution in the shallow cooling trench. Paul and Tim use this time to take a short break to escape the oppressive heat of the work chamber, but Andrews chooses to stay behind to stir. This is his favorite part. This is what all the long, hard, and disgusting work is about.

  As the liquid cools, small white crystals form all over the trench. With literally his own blood, sweat and tears, Andrew has helped turn the shit and piss of the powerful people of Ararat into something amazing to use against them. This moment always feels vaguely magical to Andrew.

  He isn’t just watching potassium nitrate, better known as saltpeter, precipitate out of the solution to form into tiny white crystals. What Andrew sees when he looks into the cooling trench is real power literally growing before his very eyes. The power stored in these chemical bonds is the power to change things. The power to destroy. The power to get vengeance. The power to make threats. The power to make demands.

  In the near future, Andrew will take steps to further refine this batch of saltpeter. Once it is ready, he will use his urine to safely and very carefully mix it with the other ingredients. All that is needed is a small amount of charcoal made from burning solid waste and a bit of sulfur, which is a byproduct of the oil refinery. Both are secretly brought in by Mr. Snider’s people and securely kept in the storage section of the tunnels ready to be used.

  Andrew knows the final gunpowder made with this batch of tiny crystals won’t be perfect, given the conditions he is forced to work under. The final product will probably be middling at best, but hopefully it should be good enough.

  CHAPTER 18

  Thirty-two days after the shuttle launch, Mark Corvus begins the day the same way he has for most of the past few months. After waking up very early, he eats a large breakfast before heading to the local public health center for his daily vitamin ration. From there he goes down to the fishmarket freezer to get the blocks of ice for the fishing vessel. Today, though, things are different.

  As Mark walks to the market freezer he sees the sign he has been hoping for every single day since he ended up under Captain Reed’s tutelage. Outside the back entrance is a crumpled piece of red paper and a stained yellow wrapper, both kept from being blown away by a half-empty green glass bottle set on top of them. Just three inconsequential pieces of trash left on the street to anyone else, but a message to Mark that this is the day. As he heads inside the freezer he sees that the ice blocks for the Morning Dove have already been wrapped in an insulated blanket and nicely labeled. Rolling the cart it is immediately clear to Mark the weight of the “ice” is off. Looking closely, he sees the dimensions aren’t exactly right -- the load is at least a few centimeters taller than it should be, but the small difference in size would only be noticeable to someone who has been carting the exact same load for weeks.

  When Mark reaches the ship he sees that Captain Reed and two of his fellow apprentices are already on board getting ready. Once they see him they jump over to help him move the ice. Marks calls out to Captain Reed, “Morning. I wish we could have gotten an earlier start.”

  Captain Reed gives Mark an intense knowing look. Mark responds with only a deliberate nod which causes a rare smile to break out on the captain’s face.

  Wishing to get an earlier start is the code that it's time. Mark assumes the code phrase choice was Captain Reed’s own sick idea of a joke. At the very least, Mark knows it's something he would never honestly say to the captain.

  After that, they get ready in near total silence. The only sound is Captain Reed barking out perfunctory commands. As soon as the last crew member arrives, he is berated by Captain Reed as the crew readies to depart. The tense silence continues until they are out of the natural harbor and completely out of sight of anyone.

  None of the crew wants to speak first about what they are all thinking given Captain Reed’s graphic and detailed threats, so they all watch him with anticipation. Finally, once they are far enough out that they can’t even see the island of Prime anymore on the horizon, something changes in Captain Reed, and he snaps to action. He opens the cooler and unwraps the ice pack to reveal four crossbows and four backpacks. Each is labeled with one of their names and coordinates.

  Captain Reed starts laying out the packs and shouting orders, “Don’t go looking through your pack until you are on shore. I presume the main parts are sealed, and you will want them to stay that way. Mark, start gathering the knives, water bottles, rainwear, tarps, spare fishing line, hooks -- basically look for anything that might be of any use and distribute it evenly among you. The rest of you, I want us heading southeast as fast as we possibly can. I don’t think we have much time, so let's move.” The ship quickly becomes a hive of activity.

  For the first hour of their journey everything seems on course, but as the ship gets closer to the main continent,
the normally blue sky starts looking darker, and the water grows choppier.

  Pointing at the sky, Mark tries to warn Captain Reed, “I really do not like the look of this.”

  Captain Reed just looks at him like he is an idiot. “Yeah, that's the point. Just try not to fall off.”

  By the time they reach the first drop off point, off the shore of Goliath, it is raining steadily and the coastal waves are about a meter higher than normal. Captain Reed only brings the boat close enough to shore in a semi-protected cove so Tony can jump out into chest-high water. The second he is off, they start heading to the next location.

  Mark has the misfortune of having the last drop off point. By the time they near his coordinates the downpour has turned into a tempest. Giant bolts of lightning dance across the sky as the vessel is violently pitched in waves over two meters high. As the only two left on board, Mark and Captain Reed are doing everything they can to keep the boat upright and generally heading in the right direction. The vessel is nearly dashed against the rocks twice until they are in a place Captain Reed thinks is good enough to let Mark off.