Stepping Stones (Founding of the Federation Short Stories Book 1)

by Chris Hechtl

  “How will they end up affording it?”

  Jack shrugged. “Mortgage of course. The same for purchasing supplies and a means to get there. We're talking interstellar economics. We're a bit off track.”

  “So that's your big picture?” Miss Chalice asked, eying him with a thoughtful expression. Jack could hear respect in that voice tinged with a little admiration and something else. “You'll end up owning it all in the end anyway. Don't you have enough money?” the woman demanded.

  Jack snorted. “I'm not in it for the money. I never was. Nor the power. I want mankind to go to the stars. To leave the cradle and see what is out there. To explore, to evolve.”

  “How will they pay the mortgage?” Willy demanded again, eying him as he stabbed his index finger repeatedly into the tabletop.

  Chloe winced. She was wondering the same question. She was also wondering about money now that Venus was over with. She'd burned through a lot of credit getting what she could done. Which way would she jump? To the stars or remain behind, in hopes that someone might restart Venus and want her back? She wasn't sure.

  “Their problem,” Jack replied with a shrug as he looked at the man. “They could do any number of things. It depends on the amount.”

  “It'll be astronomical,” Willy said with a shake of his head. “I don't see it happening.”

  “Ah, but with thousands of worlds to choose from, you've got competition. That'll drive the price down as the various builders cut things to be economical. They'll want to find better ways to do the process. Shortcuts.”

  “Which could lead to disaster if someone somewhere isn't too careful.”

  “I know. Careless is an issue. Not really something I'm concerning myself with yet, we're not near that stage. We'll have to set up ground rules. The banks will be involved of course; they always are. They'll be one of the people to get the biggest profit.”

  “How …,” again Willy pressed the subject. He didn't seem to want to let it go.

  “The solar system as collateral? Minerals? Rare materials? Rare medicines? Honestly, I don't know. That's something our kids will have to work out for on their own. We've got enough work getting them there.”

  “Agreed.”

  ~V~

  Jean Pierre wasn't happy about how the Venus project had ended up. Earth First's efforts at suborning and upstaging Lagroose and the other Megacorps had been great, but he hadn't expected them to pull out as they did. To just give up like that … it wasn't like Lagroose. He'd expected them to bull on, ignoring the issue. That would have allowed it to ferment for a bit until the planet was open for colonization. Then they would have gotten heavy handed, forcing the issue into the World Court and the court of public opinion later on.

  He'd come to the reluctant conclusion that Earth did indeed need a release valve from its population. Its excessive population, but he still didn't support going out beyond the solar system. He'd had Saul explore some of the grimmer options on dealing with the population issue. Only the four horsemen could really get the numbers back under control. There was no way to control it, however, and he'd be damned if he'd be the one to unleash the apocalypse. There might not be an Earth worth living on if it did happen.

  He also doubted he'd be around to see it.

  “The good news is, we didn't take much of a bath here. We did lose a lot of respect and prestige, however,” Heidi Winters stated, shaking her head.

  “Well, we're back to Earth. Which was what we wanted anyway.”

  “Not quite. Earth and Mars. But Mars isn't open to colonization since they declared their independence.”

  “And we let that stand?”

  “The leadership at the time thought it was a good idea. Revisiting it now could cause problems. It is something to consider carefully however. If we swamped Mars with immigrants, they can't turn them all away, right?”

  “Someone mentioned that in a press conference. Something about a trilogy of Mars books. Red Mars, Green Mars, Blue Mars. I'm not sure we can successfully follow that precedent.”

  “Why not?”

  “Because of the megacorps. The United Nations’ ability to project power is sharply limited to Earth's atmosphere and orbitals. None of her member countries can do it either. They've all been wrapped up in their own misery or that of their neighbors.”

  “Trying to stay alive does that.”

  “Besides,” Jean said, sitting up straight and getting their attention with a subtle alteration of his tone. “We don't want them to leave. We need the people here,” he said stabbing the table with a finger. “I'd deport those that are broke and not interested in working, but there are too many of those already. Those that want to go and can in the past are the smart. They think, they design, and they are what we need here.”

  “Yet, they leave the mother world like rats deserting a sinking ship.”

  “Yes. It's time to change that. Time to get them emotionally invested in Earth's future. I like that tag line,” he said with a grin. “Use it,” he ordered, looking at the publicist. She nodded. “See what Lagroose says. We'll hold their feet over the fire for a while just out of habit, but we need to move on. People will see it as old news shortly.

  “Morale is certainly taking a dump. Everyone's interested in the starship program now.”

  “Then we need to do something about that too.”

  ~V~

  Jack was amused by the dismay the investors and public were saying to the media. The real estate of Venus had been a hot commodity, and with the megacorps pulling out, it meant the collapse of the project. The United Nations had promised to pick up where they left off but they had no funds, too much was tied up in keeping the peace and staving off the climate change.

  He knew with dead certainty that the project would flounder. If they didn't pick up within a year, the planet would backslide right back into a hothouse. All of their gains would have been for naught. Not his problem he thought.

  Demand to force the megacorps to finish what they started grew in the media and the social boards. Public figures backed it since it was a hot button subject.

  Jack watched Barbie take the podium for the daily news address. The media was in a feeding frenzy he noted. “Miss Cole, why won't Lagroose finish what it started?”

  “Why should we?” she asked, pausing with her normal address to answer the question. She looked around the room. “Why should we spend billions more credits on something for someone else to take it away from us? Why do it when we won't see any return on the investment in time, labor, equipment, and lives? Who is being the real greedy ones in this? Not one person who threw in with the scammers actually paid Lagroose, Little Green Men, or others to do the job. Not a dime. They were stupid, they threw their money away, now they want to take what we've worked hard for? Not going to happen.”

  “But mankind needs a new home!” a reporter said plaintively. “Two planets … the habitats, they aren't enough! Not nearly enough!”

  “Stop breeding like rabbits then,” Jack muttered to himself.

  “I get that. So do the people on Mars. They've been working on terraforming their world despite protests and foot dragging from those who don't want it to happen. Now that they are getting somewhere, I've heard and I know they've heard that people on Earth want to force open immigration down their throats. Good luck with that.”

  “So what is Lagroose going to do?”

  She shook her head as the cameras rolled. “Ladies and gentlemen, Altruism can only be taken so far. Of course no one feels for the big guy if he's getting shafted. Sorry folks, the board has cut all funding to the project. The teams involved have been reassigned. The equipment will be repurposed, traded, sold at auction, or recycled. That concludes Lagroose Industries public statement on the matter.”

  Jack nodded as Barbie left ignoring a storm of questions and demands from the media. He turned to his wall screen. “Okay Athena, next project.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  ~V~

  “In
conclusion ladies and gentlemen, it must be observed that eventually Venus was indeed terraformed by LGM under contract to the Sol government after the first A.I. war. Doctor Schnader's notes were instrumental in completing the project.”

  “The EECC program like the United Nations and just about every national government on the planet were terminated during the A.I. war of 2200. The Exploration initiative and bureaucracy was renewed and streamlined by the solar government that was born from the solar colonies and corporations’ efforts to subdue the rampaging Skynet virus and supporting A.I. The Sol system government was a democracy, and some say a model for the eventual formation of the Federation after the First Terran Interstellar War.” A bell went off, making the professor pause and the class rustle as they packed up. “But, that is the bell ladies and gentle beings, so have a good evening.”

  “Oh, and don't forget to read up on the next chapter and complete the homework assignment in the schedule. Please make sure you send the assignment in to my inbox or to one of the TAs before the class begins on Thursday. That is all.”

  Dolphin's Tale

  2140

  “Fin want away from two-legs. Must find new water place. One on world, not ... void,” Tw'tw'ch'ka stated, happy that she'd gotten the two-leg words out. The concepts were still beyond a few of the older generations. She wondered if Whistle'Tr'ck'ka't truly understood or not.

  The dolphin pods had set a goal to get to a water world away from the pollution on Earth and the metal tasting waterways in the space habitats. Away from the two-legs who caught and killed them or hurt them or bored them to death with experiments in tight quarters. Fins were meant to swim, to swim oceans, not … this, she thought, sending a sonic ping around the room. It danced and chittered, bouncing off of the various fins and constructs in the room then came back to her.

  “Tired of being treated as young. Want tools and use to counter two-leg meddling,” Tik'tik'clock stated.

  “We have to comply, to become what the two-legs want to be equals. Then we can say no,” Tw'tw'ch'ka stated. She knew the two-legs preferred that the fins go by two-leg names. That was one of the things they had to work on.

  “They don't listen. They will continue to meddle. To change. Even when we are older. They change our young,” Ch'nn'k stated, sending a sonic ping into her guts. The ping made her uterus quiver, which annoyed her.

  “They say they have the best of intentions for us. The mother will keep meddling. To her we will always be unfinished, unaccepted. To be her experiments,” the dolphin clacked.

  “Will be until we have freedom.”

  “To be free. Free of meddling. That is what all believe. Right?” Whistle'Tr'ck'ka't asked. Some of the dolphins rolled this way or that. Discussions were harder on some of the older generations. They had trouble keeping up, understanding. To some they only thought of when the next meal was or game.

  “But if we get to water, may not be safe. May have sharp teeth or others.”

  “We smarter now. We can deal with them,” Tik'tik'clock replied, showing his own conical teeth. That statement was met with a mixture of sonic ghosts stalking them and bubble rings of agreement.

  “But if some escape, go explore and don't return, two-legs will track. If refuse to come back, they won't let others follow,” Whistle'Tr'ck'ka't stated patiently.

  “Best some be free than none,” Ch'nn'k insisted stubbornly.

  “Best all be free than one,” Whistle'Tr'ck'ka't retorted, rolling his head to eye the fin. “That is the goal of all. All pods.”

  “Truth.”

  “We not speak for all.”

  “We speak for our pods. Others to follow.”

  “Fallow?” Tw'tw'ch'ka asked, eying him.

  “Fallow we cannot speak for. Can try to talk to. They make their own choice. When time right.”

  “Right,” Tw'tw'ch'ka replied, thrashing her head in a human nod.

  “Keep learning. Keep two-legs happy. Work on passing what know to others,” Whistle'Tr'ck'ka't stated.

  “Tired of this,” Tik’tik’clock sputtered in discontent. “All do is talk, talk. Talk, talk. Must do,” the fin said then swam off.

  “He trouble,” Tw'tc'ch'ka noted.

  “He trouble,” a few of the other pod leaders agreed.

  “Two-legs to leave Fallow behind. Others move to new place,” Tw'tw'ch'ka stated. A few of the pod leaders eyed her. One chattered. “New station. Bigger place. Different,” she stated. “Seen it.”

  “Not been there,” Ch'nn'k accused.

  “Not. Seen it,” the female repeated, wiggling her fins and then nodding her rostrum to the screen nearby. The others turned to glance at the wall screen with the moving pictures. The window that wasn't a window. “Big.”

  “Good.”

  “No ocean,” Ch'nn'k said, not voicing it as a question.

  “No. Two-leg Kathy,” Tw'tc'ch'ka was proud she could get the name out without sputtering, “say oceans on worlds to be. On world station orbit soon.”

  How?” Ch'nn'k demanded.

  “Red ball. Red ball turn green and blue,” Whistle'Tr'ck'ka't stated. “Two-legs do. Do other places too.”

  “So some go down?” Ch'nn'k asked, now bright eyed and eager.

  “Not know when. Time ...,” Tw'tw'ch'ka rolled as all eyes turned to her. “Not know.”

  “See.”

  “Do.”

  (O)^(O)

  Tw'tw'ch'ka rolled in discontent. How was she to find out how long it would take for them to turn the red ball blue? She didn't know when they were to move to the new place! She scratched at the itch around her implants. The two-legs insisted it would get easier to use but still bothered her.

  She wasn't surprised by the growing resentment over the two-legs. They meant well, but the meddling had to stop. Going to the stars confused the older generation. It confused her. They were balls of light; the concepts were hard to grasp. But it was a new game, and that was something to do. Something to break the tedium. The lure of the seas was powerful. To jump, play … to swim and feed. The two-legs called it primal, and encouraged the fins to ignore such callings. To focus on the future.

  She had to admit, piloting a craft in the dark void was different. Hard, since she was doing it remotely. It didn't seem real. Not until they put her in the same place as the thing and had her steer it. Then she understood, as did the others.

  She looked over to the elders, the small ones. They were barely sentient, near fallow. They didn't qualify as Gen 1 as the two-legs called Whistle'Tr'ck'ka't, and others like him. Generation 1, the true generation, the one that could communicate with the two-legs. It was like the others before; they didn't matter. At least they hadn't been disposed of.

  Unlike many of her people, she knew her people were artificial. That the two-legs brought up pieces of fallow fins from the polluted blue ball and grew them in cylinders. Then hatched them. The fallow ones and some of the ones that followed. Once they were of age, they were bred.

  Which was where some of the resentment came in, for the two-legs wouldn't allow them to breed with each other as the fins saw fit. She still didn't understand the concepts of inbreeding, nor did others. The restrictions burned however.

  Some of the pod, like Ch'nn'k and others were ready to war with the two-legs. To fight or so they thought. Did they not understand the two-legs had created them? Controlled everything around them? The air, the water, the food? She rolled in distress. They should be grateful but weren't.

  Ch'nn'k resented the humans because he found out about pets. He kept comparing the fins to pets of the two-legs. He'd been ordered to do tricks for them. Now he refused. They still fed him, but he didn't “work.”

  Some of the latest generation like Tw'tw'ch'ka knew better. They had implants. She had been the first fin born with them. She was proud of that. She preened herself briefly. But she had trouble with them; pain when she used them. Infections from time to time. But she could do things; see things no fin had before. It was exciting.
/>
  “Thinking deep thoughts?” the two-leg Kathy asked, swimming up behind her.

  Tw'tw'ch'ka rolled to eye her, sending a brief ping through the two-leg, then rolled her head in a slight thrashing motion that was the two-leg equivalent of a no. “To do?”

  Kathy eyed the fin. “We're still working on it. This new station … it's wild. I'm excited. I know some of your people are too. We're going to begin the move soon.”

  “When?”

  “It's in the schedule. Did you access it?” Kathy asked mildly.

  The fin rolled, this time in distress. The calendar was confusing. She didn't understand the concept. The boxes were just that, boxes with words.

  “Not sure. Hard to … under … stand,” she ground out. She hated to admit that. It meant more lessons, more questions, more cutting.

  “Damn,” Kathy muttered, looking away. “Still some issues with temporal dysplasia? I'm not sure. I'll make a note to look into it later,” she said to herself.

  “Not good?” the fin asked.

  “It's … yes, not good. But not all that bad as you think. It is something to work on.”

  “Long?” Tw'tw'ch'ka asked.

  “Long enough,” Kathy admitted ruefully. “I just started here. Doctor Lagroose is in charge; she has the master plan.”

  “Long to move?”

  “Oh. A couple of weeks. It is a long flight. Then settle in, then test. But it is a new experience.”

  “New good. More room good.”

  “I guess,” Kathy said worriedly. She was concerned some of her subjects wouldn't survive the trip.

  (O)^(O)

  2140

  Tw'tw'ch'ka would weep if she was a two-leg. Instead she rolled in distress, thrashing about like so many of her brother and sisters. The separation was harsh, with two-legs and robots moving in to pull them apart. No one had mentioned this! And to be slipped into small containers … like death. The fins cried out in distress.