The Third Craft

by James Harris

  “No one will know precisely. We don’t know exactly how many potential planets we will have to visit before we select a suitable new home. Eons ago, the original plan was for a fleet of exploratory scout ships to depart with live crews. They would hibernate on board their ships. The crew would be awakened from a space sleep to explore and evaluate each candidate planet. This would take too much time and consequently the crew would likely age and die before their mission was accomplished. Even the time it took the scout ships to communicate a successful discovery would be prohibitive. We analyzed the immense distance required before we reach inhabitable planets and concluded that even cryogenic sleep might not work. The new plan is that the trip is to be artificially navigated. The on-board Bot will do most of the work, and the crew will be stored digitally.”

  “Digitally?”

  “Yes, you know how it works, the person’s genome and memory data is stored bio-electronically.”

  “It’s feasible, I guess.”

  “It only makes sense, Kor. The distance is too great for conventional space travel. Scout ships will precede the fleet and select a suitable planet. They will leave marker beacons en route allowing the fleet to track their progress. These will be picked up by the evacuating galactic cruisers that will follow in the years to come. Eventually, the cruiser will receive instructions from the scout ships regarding the successful discovery of a suitable destination planet. The cruisers will rely on the marker beacons to guide them to that planet. The plans have been drawn and a timetable has been proposed. Hopefully we‘ll be successful in finding a duplicate of Sargon out there. Otherwise …”

  “Otherwise?”

  “The survivors of our planet will be left to drift in space for eternity.”

  The planet’s surface was a boiling, sputtering caldron of oil, earth, and rock. The salt-water oceans had evaporated long ago, killing all the life they sustained. The water had been replaced by a sea of molten sand and rock. It had vaporized into a permanent layer of cloud that rose from the planet’s surface up into the stratosphere where it cooled and liquefied, returning to the planet as rain. But as soon as the rain fell it would vaporize again, just above the scalding surface, and rise to form more dense black clouds. This cycle had continued for eons.

  From a distance, one would see the planet as a cloud-enclosed sphere enveloped in a series of planetary rings of water droplets and ice. Massive amounts of solar gamma radiation would be observed. Ordinarily, the cloud layer would have blocked out heat from the sun and trapped carbon dioxide inside the planet’s atmosphere, causing the planet to cool and an ice age to begin. But instead, because of the proximity and increased size of the dying sun, Sargon was super-heating. It didn’t matter that the solar heat was partially blocked by the thick clouds. The barrage of heat radiation that got through was cooking the planet.

  It would have been far worse, but luckily for Sargon, the bloated size of the star had actually caused the sun’s surface temperature to decrease. Gravity (and therefore heat) is strongest at the core where the mass is much denser. Naturally, as the sun expanded, its surface heat decreased because it was getting further and further away from the source of the sun’s heat – its core. In spite of the decreasing surface temperature though, the sun’s increasing proximity to Sargon meant that radiation levels remained lethal.

  The sun, ordinarily the size of a ping-pong ball when observed from the planet’s surface, was now the size of a basketball. It had already vaporized the closest planets in the solar system and soon it would destroy Sargon. This gigantic balloon of burning gases was dying. It was in the process of going supernova.

  The sun would soon follow the path taken by every dying star. Continuing to expand until it could no longer sustain its shape, it would begin to collapse inward. The photon-rich core would resist the identically positively charged outer shell. Massive numbers of photons would disgorge outward from the sun in the form of radiation waves. The sun’s matter would break down into elemental molecules and atoms because of the intense heat and pressure. The sun’s atomic levels were experiencing stratification. At the molecular level, the distance between the outer electron orbits and the neutron-proton nucleus of the star’s hydrogen atoms would keep decreasing because of energy bombardment. It would become ever denser, causing it to shrink and shrink. The Sun’s outer crust, deprived of the heavier elements, would fail to support its mass and would tumble inward toward the super-heavy core. The force of gravity would overcome the integrity of the shell that held the sphere together.

  As it shrank rapidly, the sun would compact and its gravitational pull would become increasingly intense, sucking all matter toward its increasingly dense center. Because of the unimaginable extreme heat and their proximity to one another, particles of matter would meet in ultra-high-speed collisions, forming anti-matter. The colossal force of gravity would be such that even light waves would be prevented from leaving the surface. The exodus of photons would stop abruptly as the collapsing sun’s gravitational pull equaled the force of exit. The photons, as light energy, would now join other atoms being sucked toward the center. The now immense gravitational pull would also absorb passing light rays and warp other rays that were once able to pass close by. Outside the solar system, the space that the star once occupied would now appear black.

  Trapped by the sun’s gravitational pull, the amount of anti-matter within the star would continue to grow, annihilating all matter close by. The matter/anti-matter collisions would create vast energy eruptions as the matter was annihilated in the process of forming more anti-matter. In the end, when the energy required to bind the molecular electrons together was exceeded by the electromagnetic forces pulling them apart, the matter would ignite into a fireball of mass annihilation. Matter, anti-matter, deadly radiation, and invisible cosmic waves would detonate from the center. As the star exploded, the anti-matter would scatter outward, nullifying any matter it came in contact with until its energy was exhausted.

  The death march of the sun had already begun. Tens of thousands of years prior, the inhabitants of Sargon began to fall ill at an increasing rate. Their symptoms were a form of radiation sickness. It was concluded that the solar radiation was lethal. When they realized the peril of their situation, they sought shelter from the sun’s harmful radiation by carving out electromagnetically protected underground caverns. They began to live a mole-like existence.

  Before retreating to their underground caverns, the surviving population had migrated to the polar extremities of the planet. The two extremes – the north and south poles of the planet – were the only habitable places left on Sargon. Because the poles were the least exposed to the sun, they escaped the direct onslaught of gamma and x-rays and were cooler than the central regions, where all life and vegetation had perished in the heat. There, at the poles, the people enjoyed a lush tropical life for several centuries. But the migration of millions of people to an ever-shrinking land mass created deadly struggles for survival.

  This final chapter of human evolution on Sargon was called the Great Divide. As the sun ballooned in size and its heat and radiation levels increased, those who had survived split into two civilizations. Feudal societies evolved. One, the House of Narok, lived at the South Pole and was fortunate enough to have access to about 70 percent of the planet’s remaining life-sustaining resources. It also had the world’s largest military force. The other, the House of Abishot, lived at the North Pole and was resource poor. It is worthy to note that society had regressed down to its bare essentials. The struggle for territory and survival had reduced humanity to scrounging like animals to stay alive. It was ironic that the population had sophisticated technological gadgetry, but had no food or water to survive.

  The poles had had a tropical climate for many centuries, but as the sun continued to grow, the heat became unbearable there, too. The vegetation succumbed, and the animals died off, and the radiation rose to levels that were fatal even at low exposures. As food became scarce, both Ho
uses attacked each other to keep their supply chain functional. The wars of the Houses turned into near genocide as each fought for their survival. Their militaristic leaders didn’t have the foresight to use their scientific skills to plan an orderly evacuation of the planet. To the contrary, they plotted deviously to destroy the others’ spacecraft to trap the other on the doomed planet. The wreckage of wonderfully designed star fighters and intergalactic spaceships littered the atmosphere of the planet and the solar system. Madness had trumped science. There was no escape because the exploratory research had not been done. They couldn’t evacuate because there was no destination planet and no ships capable of travelling more than ten light years.

  The only option was to head underground. The two societies protected themselves deep beneath Sargon’s surface with electromagnetic radiation shields. Each built magnificent underground cities using knowledge gleaned from advanced weaponry design to create machines that carved huge caverns into the rock. They were built between two hundred and three thousand feet below ground, where the temperature remained coolest.

  Biosphere tubes, also known as con tubes, joined the cities. They resembled the spokes of an underground wheel. A palace was at the hub and the outer cities were joined by con tubes. Both societies had similar designs even though they existed far apart at different poles. For centuries, the planet’s remaining inhabitants were kept busy constructing the cities’ infrastructure. This monumental task required millions of workers, and huge numbers of them died of radiation poisoning before it was completed. Plants and food were grown artificially. The caverns’ high ceilings were lined with massive grids of artificial lighting that replicated sunlight. In order to simulate the revolution of the planet, the lighting was programmed each day to imitate dawn, dusk, and night. This gave the people a sense of normalcy and placated their fears of impending doom.

  Meanwhile, society’s focus shifted from engaging the enemy to finding a way off the planet. Their few remaining galactic cruisers were refurbished and sent deeper and deeper into space on reconnaissance missions, but they failed to find any inhabitable planets for migration. It was too little, too late.

  Generations of humans born beneath the surface of Sargon were unfamiliar with the concept of being “cold.” In their subterranean environment, the heat never ceased.

  Humans are adaptive and resilient. Over the centuries, the bodies of Sargon humans – already highly evolved – adapted further to the subterranean environment. They shrank to about four feet in height as their “sky” became a low ceiling. Their limbs weakened, muscle fibers wasting away because of the lack of physical work. Once the tunnels were completed, the work force was unemployed except for trade and food. Their chests sank and their hearts shrank as their underused muscles required less and less blood. Solid food all but disappeared as a source of nutrition, replaced by oral supplements. Without the effect of natural sunlight, their pigments lightened until their skin was a translucent film. Their purple veins and blood vessels were clearly visible, pulsating beneath the surface.

  Their minds, in contrast, were constantly nurtured and continued to grow. Their skulls became disproportionately large compared with the rest of their bodies. The poor and unnatural lighting caused their eyes to grow larger and larger. Their irises became colorless and were hardly visible around enlarged black pupils, which were now two to three centimeters in diameter. Body hair had disappeared thousands of years prior because of the rising surface temperature on the planet and the need to keep reproductive organs at a constant temperature. At night their bodies shone with an almost-incandescent glow – partly because of their translucent skin and partly because of the minerals they absorbed from the underground water supply.

  Thousands of feet below the smoldering surface, in an artificial biosphere protected from the ravages of a dying sun, the two Narok men sat talking, waiting for word from the king.

  Asunda and Kor looked up as a sentry interrupted their discussion.

  “Pardon, Your Majesty. Prince Stell is on the com. He wishes to speak with you.” The sentry looked at Asunda. “Alone,” he said.

  The sentry stood at attention beside Kor in the natural stance of a protective bodyguard. The prince glanced past him and, just before the door closed, caught a glimpse of a Crown Protection Detail (CPD), consisting of several palace sentries standing on guard outside. They were there to keep him safe. Kor motioned to Asunda to stay put. “I will speak to Stell. And Asunda stays.”

  The sentry nodded and closed his eyes momentarily in concentration. The central computer’s brain scan monitoring system interpreted his intention to link with the incoming communication and cleared the call through a priority channel. A small 3-D image of Stell appeared and flickered by Kor’s shoulder. He touched the shimmering figure and pointed to the far wall transferring the image onto its surface. It expanded to about ten feet in width and was grainy and flickered with distortion.

  Kor turned to the sentry. “Leave us, please.”

  Stell spoke as the bodyguard left the room. He was annoyed when he spotted Asunda standing nearby. “Kor,” he said. “I wish to speak with you alone.”

  “Don’t insult me, Stell. You’ve known Asunda all of your life. What could you possibly say that he hasn’t already heard? He knows you better than you know yourself.”

  “It doesn’t matter if he stays. My call is regarding our meeting on the moon Alpha.”

  Kor glanced instinctively at Asunda before replying with a ferocity that caught everyone off guard, including his own wizard. “Stell, you’re playing games. You know we’re due to meet in eight days. You just called to see if I was aware of your latest treachery.”

  “I don’t know what you mean, brother. What treachery?” His eyes flicked quizzically to his wizard.

  Kor ignored the confusion in Stell’s voice. He bowed dramatically. “As you can see, brother, I am well.”

  “I’m pleased that you’re well, brother. I hear many others were not as fortunate as you.”

  Was that a smirk? Kor thought.

  “You refer to Alpha City? You dare mention that slaughter!” Kor said.

  He lurched forward, spilling priceless rubies all over the place. “You Abishot killed a city! A city of innocent people.”

  Asunda raised his hand to caution Kor against further outburst.

  On the screen, a slender arm reached out and grabbed Stell’s arm before he could reply. It yanked him out of view. A moment later, a sullen, and somewhat shaken Stell reappeared on camera and spoke carefully. “I apologize. I misspoke. I am truly sorry for your loss, but I assure you that I was in no way responsible for the attack on Able City.”

  Kor’s eyes narrowed as he studied Stell. He noted the rapid blinking of Stell’s eyes and yet his calm, centered look. He did not look away, nor did he look up. Agitated, but perhaps not guilty after all. Kor was satisfied that he was telling the truth.

  Then who had ordered the attack? There was a poignant silence as Kor gathered his thoughts.

  “Asunda and I will meet with you on Alpha moon,” Kor said. “You are permitted to bring a councilor …”

  Asunda interrupted Kor with a gesture.

  “… a wizard, if you wish, and two guards. But no more than two.”

  “My Prince,” Stell said, with a sarcastic nod.

  The screen went blank without a formal sign-off – a subtle breach of protocol and an insult to the Crown.

  Kor was seething. Every time he encountered Stell, his self-control evaporated. “That prick tests me. He truly does. Every time we talk, he sits in judgment of me like I had something to do with the war that killed his father. Why does he haunt me?” Kor continued staring at the blank wall where the image of Stell had appeared.

  “Asunda, are the latest evacuation projections loaded into the computer?”

  “The timelines are shrinking.” Asunda examined the figures and then stiffened in concern “How can this be? I examined these projections a week ago and yet they have
changed once again. In one week! We already knew that we wouldn’t have enough time to save any more than a small fraction of the population but according …”

  “How long?” Kor said.

  “The time to act has gone from centuries to mere years.”

  Kor shook his head. “We’ve had thousands of years to prepare for this time, this End of Times. Yet no one did anything.”

  “It would seem that everyone was preoccupied with treachery and war.”

  “Preoccupied! Our idiot ancestors fought stupid wars (are there any other kind?) and now we pay the ultimate price. Asunda, where were the wizards? Why didn’t they do something to stop the killing and help plan an evacuation?”

  “The wizards did try. But no one listened. Certainly not the military, they graze in the fields of death and destruction. No one dared to act alone and challenge the ruling military families. If one is attacked, one must protect oneself. That’s how these endless wars were perpetuated. Soon everyone lost track of who attacked whom last and whose turn it was to retaliate.”

  “How ironic that, as they warred, ignoring the prophecies of their own wizards, our ancestors were busy destroying the very future they believed they were fighting for.”

  “Majesty, you and the House of Narok can do something now. It’s not too late. You can direct the last of our resources into building the kind of ships that will allow some of us to escape. With good luck and hard work, the evacuation projections can be increased.”

  “Do you think so?”

  “Each day could mean hundreds of lives.”

  “What are we waiting for, Asunda? Everything seems to take so much time! Let’s get on with it.”

  “If only it were that simple.”

  “We must take decisive action. Let’s build the ships now, Asunda. Starting tonight!”

  “If only it were that simple.”

  “Stop repeating yourself. What’s the problem?”