The Planetsider

by G J Ogden

  Maria comprehended the cause of Ethan’s agitation and was now also visibly uneasy. “Ethan, if you’d just give the General, I mean Governor, some time to explain…” she began, nervously.

  The slip of the tongue didn’t go unnoticed to Ethan. ‘General’, she had said, not ‘Governor’. This was not a domestic matter, but a military one. Before Maria could continue, Governor Archer interrupted.

  “It’s okay, Captain,” Archer said to Maria, and instantly she stood down and assumed her previous, erect posture. “Ethan, I understand your frustration,” Archer continued. “Compared to the life you’re used to, this place must seem like a paradise.” Archer’s perceptiveness took Ethan by surprise.

  “You’re right that life on this base is incomparable to life on the planet. You know that our conflict with GPS is what caused the devastation on the planet, and for this reason, any anger or resentment towards us is completely understandable. The imbalance between our situation and yours is unfair and unjust.”

  Hearing Archer admit this so freely deflated the bubble of anger that was threatening to expand into a cloud of rage around Ethan. He felt his heart rate ease and rationality begin to assert itself again. He noticed Maria, who was carefully observing him, also relax slightly.

  “There is no ‘maddening’, as you call it, here on the station,” said Archer. “Our medical technology is able to counteract the effects of the exposure levels on the base, so that the worst that can be expected is a shortening of life expectancy by a number of years, not a degradation of life of the sort that you witness planetside. But things have changed, Ethan, and that is why you’re here.” Governor Archer gestured for Ethan to take a seat, still with that easy smile on his face. Ethan looked at the chair and hesitated slightly before deciding to take up the offer and sit down. Archer’s words had gone some way to appeasing his doubts, but there was still more he needed to know.

  Archer sat also, but Maria and the other man, as yet still to be introduced, remained standing. Ethan regarded the man momentarily from his new position in the chair. He had a hard look about his slightly craggy, rough-shaven face. There was a scar around and below his right ear, Ethan noticed. Not a cut, but more a mottling of the skin, which was also darker than the skin around it.

  “I’m sorry” said Archer, noticing that Ethan was staring at the man. “I forgot to introduce you to Major Kurren, here.”

  “Kurren?”

  “Yes, Major James Kurren. You knew his brother, of course, Commander Chris Kurren.”

  Ethan’s heart sank. Kurren’s brother. Kurren who had sacrificed his own ride home so that Ethan could be here. Kurren, Maria’s friend and comrade who, in all likelihood, was now dead, either from his wound, The Maddening, or the journey back to the settlement. For all Ethan knew, Summer may have killed him herself. He stood up and met Major’s Kurren’s eyes, which were a vivid blue; cold and severe.

  “I’m… I’m sorry about your brother,” said Ethan, with genuine warmth. “I didn’t know Commander Kurren at all, really, but I saw how he acted, and he was an honourable man.” Ethan noticed the Major’s eyes waver momentarily as he said the word, ‘honourable’.

  “Thank you,” Major Kurren replied stoically, not adjusting his stance.

  Ethan sank back down into his chair, his mind again a muddle of thoughts and emotions.

  Archer regarded him carefully, allowing him time with his thoughts, waiting patiently for the optimal moment to speak again, so as to have Ethan’s full attention. When Ethan finally looked up, Archer continued.

  “Ethan, what you see here on this base is the result of an uneasy stand-off with GPS, who are still out there on their orbital platform.” Archer made a sweeping gesture upwards with his right hand as he said ‘out there’. “But for two generations we have fought them. Skirmish after skirmish, each one repelled, but each one cutting us a little more, and a then little more. Yet we survived and built a life here.” And then with more emphasis, he said, “We created life here. Families, Ethan, just like down on the planet. We are no different.”

  Ethan thought for a moment and then said, “So what changed. Why do you need me now?”

  “What happened is that GPS changed tactics, and we did not see their intentions until it was too late,” Archer said, plainly. Archer tapped at a screen built into the table in front of him and a three-dimensional display appeared in the centre of the table, similar to the image that Maria and Kurren had shown him and the councillors at the settlement. Ethan watched intently as the display showed a huge object, constructed of a large centre platform and a network of smaller platforms connected by conduits, which jutted out in all directions like an enormous spider’s web, hanging in space above a planet.

  “What is that?” asked Ethan, leaning in to get a better look.

  “That is the primary orbital base of the Global Power Security corporation,” said Archer. “Or, at least, it used to be. At first, it was simply the centre platform, but over time it grew. Before the conflict began, the governments of the world tried to curb its expansion, fearing it was becoming too big; too self-sufficient and powerful. They were correct, of course.”

  “And they’ve continued to expand it ever since?”

  “Correct,” said Archer. “Now it has become even larger than this base, or at least what remains of the habitable sections of this base,” he added, casually. Archer started to tap at the console again. The images began to move. “One day GPS suddenly stopped their raids, which had been a regular feature of life here for decades, and started to direct their weapons onto an area of debris, located some distance from their platform, but well away from the moon base.” The images moved as Archer spoke, following his words and keeping in time with the events as he recounted them. “At first, we couldn’t understand it,” he continued. “There appeared to be no threat to us and no tactical benefit for them. We thought that perhaps they were looking to extract some ore, and maybe they had run low on fuel. But since the destruction of the refinery, one thing we are not short of in space is ore to use as fuel.” Archer let out a muted laugh as he said this, but no one reacted. “What we discovered too late was that this debris was the remains of a refinery node, still full of ore, and that the detonations had not only altered the orbit vector of this debris, but also atomised the ore,” he continued. The terms were unfamiliar to Ethan and he frowned in concentration, trying to follow what Archer was saying, something that didn’t go unnoticed by the General and Governor. “In simple terms, they had created a biological weapon of sufficient size and toxicity to kill everyone on this base. To wipe us out, once and for all.”

  The images moved along with Archer’s description of the events, and Ethan watched as the image projected a line spiralling from the debris cloud around the planet towards the moon base.

  “But you stopped it?” said Ethan. “I mean, you’re all still here, so you must have found a way to stop it?”

  “Yes, but not without significant consequences,” Archer said. He tapped the panel and the display updated, showing ships taking off from the base and heading towards the debris cloud. “We evacuated the station as far as possible, and launched everything we had at the debris field, including ships laden with ore, to use as flying bombs. Our hope was that we could alter its orbit again, away from the station. Sadly, we were unable to fully succeed in this endeavour, and it cost us most of our ships and weapons.”

  The display showed ships exploding in space, pushing the debris cloud off its deadly course, but not quite far enough. While most of the debris field missed the moon, elements remained on a collision course. Ethan watched as these smashed into the moon base. It again reminded him of the images he had seen back on the planet. How similar their fates were, he thought.

  “It’s ironic, isn’t it?” Ethan said, to no-one in particular.

  Archer’s face contorted into a curious frown. “What is, Ethan?”

  “That you faced a fate so similar to that of the planet.”

&
nbsp; “Yes, I suppose so,” Archer said, with some agitation, as if he were slightly annoyed by the comparison.

  Archer tapped a button and a three dimensional plan view of the moon base flicked into view. Suddenly, sections began to turn red – the first time the display had varied from its usual, pale white light.

  “Fifty-eight percent of the base was immediately rendered uninhabitable. Over ten thousand died. Another 3500 followed within days of the impact from intense exposure. There was no time for The Maddening, as you call it, to take hold with these unfortunate souls, which is perhaps a mercy.” Archer’s tone had darkened once again, and his easy smile had gone. “We set our emergency protocols into action and started to intensify our production of anti-toxicity medications, while also funnelling resources into creating newer, more effective medicines. Still, another two thousand died within a year, either from the toxic radiation, or the newly reinvigorated GPS, who again started their regular attacks with the hope of finishing us off.”

  The more Archer talked the angrier he became. He paused, and after a deep sigh, his expression changed again, the easy smile returning. When he continued, the earlier, smooth delivery resumed.

  “A democratic decision was made by the UEC council to place the base under military control, which is when I became Governor. We fought back against GPS and inflicted enough losses to keep them contained on their platform. But the damage was done. That was fifteen years ago.” The display changed again, now displaying a roster of names, with huge swathes turning red. The display zoomed out, and out again, with more names appearing and turning red. “We have now lost nearly 90% of our original number, leaving only 2587 of us on this base,” Archer said, his tone again carefully controlled. “Many are families; the descendants of engineers and ore industry workers from decades ago. Our medical knowledge has contained the effects of the radiation. So what you see here, while peaceful on the surface, is still a fragile existence.”

  Ethan thought back to his earlier comment about the irony of the situation, which he now realised was insensitive. While the loss suffered by the people on the moon was small compared to the billions who perished on the planet, they had still suffered and were still having to endure. It wasn’t fair to make it a numbers game. Also, the total number on the station had shocked Ethan. For some reason, he had imagined a vast population in space, while the truth was that life up in this black and cold void was as precarious as that of life Planetside. The fragility of their existence was brought starkly into view.

  “I am sorry if I came across as insensitive earlier,” said Ethan. “When I said that it was ironic that your fate was similar to that of the planet, I didn’t mean to make light of your situation, or suggest any sort of poetic justice.”

  “No apology necessary, Ethan.” Again, the easy smile.

  “I still don’t understand why you need me, though,” said Ethan. “Sorry to be blunt, but why am I here?”

  Archer’s smile dropped a little, and he tapped again on the table. The display changed back to the view of the planet and the debris cloud in orbit, a line extending from its centre and spiralling around the planet as before. “When we deflected the debris cloud, it remained in orbit around the planet, and we have monitored it ever since. It moves chaotically, changing direction from time to time as it collides with other debris, sometimes creating small detonations inside the centre, also resulting in unpredictable adjustments to its course.” Ethan watched the display chart the erratic course of the debris field around the planet. “This has had the useful side-effect of significantly reducing the size and lethality of the cloud. It’s mostly a dense cluster of dust and fragments now,” Archer continued, “nothing that could cause damage to the base in itself, if it were not for the toxicity.”

  “So what you’re saying is that this toxic radiation cloud is going to hit the base again?” Ethan speculated.

  “Yes, Ethan, precisely,” Archer confirmed. “Sadly, chance is no longer on our side and in less than thirty rotations, it will hit the base again, and we no longer have the means to alter its path. Our only hope is to synthesise a new serum, a more powerful serum that can protect us. As your immunity protects you, planetside.”

  Ethan thought for a moment, processing all this new information. It still didn’t add up. “But why do you need me?” he said, the frustration evident in his voice. “You could have just brought back some of my blood. What use am I to you?”

  “Because we don’t have the medical tools needed to create the new serum…” Archer began, but Ethan cut him off.

  “But how does that involve me?!” Ethan shouted, interrupting Archer and banging his fists on the table in frustration. The display in the centre hummed off, pitching the room into a soft darkness, illuminated only by a light running around the edge of the ceiling. It was dim enough that Ethan didn’t notice Major Kurren instinctively reach for his weapon, or Maria unseen behind Ethan’s back, hold up her hand to have him stand down. Ethan was too embroiled in his own emotions. He had given up his life and his family to be here, and all he was getting was a history lesson and no real answers.

  He felt a hand on his shoulder. It was Maria. “Ethan, I know this is a lot to take in, but please stay calm,” she said softly. “We’re only trying to give you the full picture, to help you understand the seriousness of the situation and how we arrived at this point.”

  “Sal, I think I understood the seriousness of the situation when I had myself blasted into space with you,” he said, sarcastically.

  Maria looked at Archer, who nodded gently. She sat down next to Ethan. “Remember, back on the planet, I told you that we needed your help to get something we needed?”

  Ethan tried to think back that night in his house, when Maria said she would die if Ethan didn’t help him. “Yes, vaguely, it seems like so long ago now,” he said, recalling their conversation.

  “Our only hope is to rescue a ship that was damaged during the original attack on the refinery,” Maria said. “On that ship is the equipment we need to create the new serum, one that will protect everyone once the cloud impacts the base.”

  Ethan again thought back to the initial briefing on the planet, and remembered this large ship, and how it had spiralled away from the base, fire licking at its hull. “And this is what you need my help to recover?” he said, and then hearing his own words, he was painfully aware of how ridiculous this sounded. How could he help to recover a space ship?

  “Yes,” Maria said. “The ship was damaged. And it’s also old; its power systems are long since depleted. But more importantly, it drifted onto the dark side of the moon, where the impacts from the debris cloud were most heavily concentrated. No-one on here can survive that level of toxicity, Ethan. None of us can get even close to the ship. But you can.”

  “You need me to rescue a space ship?” Ethan said, and the words sounded no less ridiculous a second time. “You do realise that I’m not a space ship pilot…?”

  “That’s where Captain Salus and Major Kurren come in,” said Archer. Still the easy smile. “Captain Salus will pilot another vessel to take you as close as possible, using a high dose of our existing anti-con medications to ensure no critical exposure. And then you will get into an EV suit and Kurren will help you to pilot it onto the ship.”

  “An EV what?” said Ethan.

  “Extra-Vehicular,” said Maria. “A special suit that means you can go out into space.”

  “Out into space?!” Ethan protested, but Maria smiled at him and said, “Don’t worry, it’s nothing compared to what you’ve already been through.”

  Ethan remained unconvinced, but before he could protest further, Archer cut back in. “Once inside the ship, Major Kurren will talk you through manually jump-starting the ship’s systems with a portable power splice that we will give you, initiating the ship’s emergency backups and installing a mobile transponder to allow him to remote pilot the ship back to the base, where we will decontaminate it and recover the equipment. It’s ve
ry simple.”

  Ethan didn’t understand any of what Archer and Maria had just said, but they certainly sounded confident that the task wasn’t difficult. Nevertheless, Ethan had not anticipated that this would be the reason they had brought him here. He had assumed a simple medical procedure, not an ‘extra-vehicular’ journey into space. He sat in the huge, black chair, his drawn white face starkly contrasting against it.

  Archer, seeing that Ethan was struggling to process the information, filled the awkward silence with more, smoothly delivered words. “With this equipment and your blood, we will be saved, Ethan,” he said, in a mildly more upbeat tone. “The difficulty is not the task, but the fact that no-one on this station could survive even a minute inside that ship. In fact, even with our current medications we would be unconscious before even making it inside. Believe me, we’ve tried.”

  Quick to dispel the notion that anyone was sent on a suicide mission, Maria hastily added, “The Governor means that we’ve had people volunteer…”

  “Quite…” said Archer, seemingly grateful for the clarification. “But you, Ethan, with the help of our anti-con medications, can be inside for at least an hour with no adverse effects whatsoever.”

  Maria jumped in again. “Only someone born on the planet, born with a genetic resistance to the toxic effects of the radiation, can survive,” she said. “Within your own blood is the key to our survival. But we don’t just need your blood, we need you too, Ethan.”

  Ethan looked at Maria for a moment and let the words ‘we need you too, Ethan’ repeat in his head. He couldn’t help wonder whether, had he not volunteered willingly, they would have tried bringing him – or someone else – by force. He chose not to be blunt once more and question Archer about this, but it added another weight to the scale of doubts that were building inside him.

  “Once the ship is back here, we can decontaminate it and recover the medical equipment we need to synthesise the new anti-cons,” Maria added. “We’ll have the time to synthesise what we need for everyone on the base, so that when the cloud hits, we’ll all be protected. You’ll have literally saved us all.”