by Nick M Lloyd
‘Don’t the terms of your restraining order even forbid you to use Bullage’s name?’
‘You want to go there? Criminal malpractice, fraud, and the toughest lawyers money can buy. What chance did I have?’ Louise waved her empty wine glass.
Jeff got up from the sofa, collected the wine bottle and refilled Louise’s glass. ‘I had to cover the first year’s lectures today, and I’m falling behind on my research.’
‘The precious research you dropped for two months during the Olympics?’ Looking over, Louise saw Jeff’s shoulders sag.
‘It’s not a competition.’
Louise smiled to herself. Well, not a close one anyway.
For the next thirty minutes Louise furiously clicked her mouse, skimming between web-sites, checking facts and figures, trying to correlate it to her own information. She interspersed her hammering with the odd shouted expletive or gruesome fact. Jeff responded with non-specific grunting sounds Louise took for affirmation and encouragement. She typed up information gleaned for the next day’s newspaper report.
‘Come on, let’s meet Mike.’ Climbing off the sofa, Jeff wandered over to the kitchen table and started fiddling with his iPad. ‘Check out Twitter—a massive pile up on the M40.’
‘No time for voyeurism or schadenfreude.’ Louise continued bashing through her keyboard two fingers at a time.
‘But it’s news! And you’re a news…person.’
Louise looked up. ‘There are loads of crashes every day. It’s statistics, and normal, and sad, but unless it was the Queen driving with Michael Jackson’s body strapped on the roof, it’s not news.’
‘You mean, it’s not your news.’ Jeff shot a cheeky smile at her.
Louise put her laptop onto standby and stood up. ‘So let’s go.’
Louise and Jeff found Mike in his usual seat, in his usual pub, The Three Kings, nursing an almost empty glass of red wine. Mike stood up as they approached, nodding towards them. ‘Harding, Junior and Senior.’
After giving the seat a brush with the back of her hand, Louise sat down. ‘Just a quick one, Mike, I’ve got an early start tomorrow.’ She looked around. ‘Is this the only pub in North London that hasn’t been gentrified?’
Jeff disappeared to get drinks.
Mike shrugged, but appeared to be looking lovingly at the crushed red-velvet curtains and nicotine stained wall paper.
‘Seriously Mike, the smoking ban was almost ten years ago. Couldn’t they give the place a lick of paint?’
‘No money, I’m afraid, they don’t generate sufficient margin on the price differential between retail and wholesale.’
Louise raised an eyebrow.
‘Their drinks are too cheap.’
Louise snorted and took a look at Mike’s papers spread across the table. As usual there was a heady mix of deeply technical science and ‘red top’ news drivel. She sifted through the pile, raising eyebrows at various pieces. Well, he won’t be happy until he’s shocked me. ‘So what’s today’s topic?’
Mike looked innocent, straightened his glasses and picked up a piece of paper. ‘Atheism?’
Sighing theatrically, Louise crossed her arms. ‘And?’
‘Well…I have been arguing with a bunch of atheists today. Laying down the ecclesiastical law…’
‘Drinks!’ Jeff arrived with the drinks, distributing them quickly.
Mike continued. ‘So, as I was saying, I was on Recursive Genius…’
Louise interrupted. ‘Your group of like-minded navel gazers, we know it, quicker…’
‘Yes, anyway…these atheists said they had souls.’ Mike raised his eyebrows. ‘Well, really! I said that they couldn’t have it both ways and that by taking the intellectually moral high ground of atheism they had given up the right to have a soul.’
Jeff joined in. ‘Buddhists?’
‘Nope, these people were genuine card-carrying nihilists; albeit they were adamant they had souls.’
‘And how did you insult them?’ asked Louise.
‘Who says I insulted them?’
Louise looked over the top of her win glass. ‘You always do.’
‘I may have said they were being greedy.’
‘Quite soft by your standards. And the fact that you’re an atheist yourself?’
Mike chuckled. ‘I joined the atheists in the 60s because someone promised me that lack of eternal judgement drove disgraceful promiscuity…you see, atheism is only intellectually the moral high ground.’
‘And how did that work out for you?’
‘I didn’t galvanise any followers.’ Mike smirked.
What? Louise raised an eyebrow to Jeff, who shrugged. Then she picked up a particularly disreputable red top newspaper and flicked through it for 10 seconds before throwing it down in disgust. She noticed Mike and Jeff share a look, and thought that Mike mouthed something to Jeff. It was bound to be puerile, so she shook her head and stood up. ‘Home time, Jeff.’
And they left.
The next day, a gentle but persistent elbow roused Jeff from his sleep. He opened his eyes and rolled over to see Louise sitting up in bed typing away on her laptop. Leaning over he gave her kiss. ‘Morning, love.’
Louise smiled. ‘That crash was a bit interesting, the blogosphere is flooded. It was a massive pile up.’
I knew it was news. Jeff took a few deep breaths and collected himself. He’d have to go into the university today, but not quite yet. He watched from the bed as Louise got dressed at breakneck speed. Then he followed her down the stairs as she ran to the front door, stopping only to pick up her personal laptop.
Once Louise had definitely left—it was not unusual for her to barrel back into the house, within minutes of leaving, to collect forgotten items—Jeff started his day at his own pace. He went back to bed.
Jeff would describe his usual morning pace as measured; although, in a court of law, he might have been forced to admit it was closer to meandering. When he next opened his eyes and peeped at the bedside clock, it showed 10am. This important milestone triggered a quick standard snooze; then, after a tiny bit of further pillow-based cogitation, he finally got up. It was 10:45am and, six miles away, Louise had just completed drafting her second article of the day.
He didn’t need to be at the University until lunchtime so Jeff surfed the web for five minutes, then drifted out into the back garden to have a quick chat, and a smoke, with his neighbour, Mrs Saunders. He looked at the clear blue sky and took a deep breath of the cold, crisp air. Smoking in the open air must technically be a little healthier…even if it’s not statistically meaningful in the long run.
Mrs Saunders was pottering around her garden. Jeff wasn’t completely sure he approved of bright red lipstick and double-denim on a lady in her late fifties, but he admired her zest. Mrs Saunders noticed Jeff had arrived and walked over to the low garden fence. ‘No school for you today, Jeff, darling?’
‘I’m going in later.’
Mrs Saunders leant on the fence. ‘How’s the tenacious Louise? Any more brutal attacks? Any more restraining orders?’
Jeff smiled. ‘Fine, no and no. How’s your gardening?’
Mrs Saunders looked back over her shoulder at her garden. ‘Oh, just the usual pruning; preparing them for the winter—nothing much going on.’
Gazing around the garden, Jeff lit up his cigarette, and then, after receiving a meaningful look from Mrs Saunders, lit another one and passed it over.
Smiling, Mrs Saunders took the cigarette. ‘Plans for the weekend?’
‘Possibly a pub quiz on Sunday with the quiz maestro. There’s one in Surbiton Mike loves.’
Mrs Saunders took a drag and held the smoke in for a good few seconds—really savouring it—before exhaling. ‘Is it the one starting at midnight?’
‘Yep. But Mike has a good friend down there, so it’s worth the trip.’
‘Did you hear about the M40 crash?’
‘Yeh, it seemed like Armageddon, lots of burnt-out cars.’ Jeff screwed up his face. ‘Lots of bodies too. But there is talk of a survivor.’
Mrs Saunders held Jeff’s eye for a few seconds. ‘I heard the same thing, but they say he lost his wife.’
‘Well…every cloud…’ Jeff gave a cheeky smile.
Mrs Saunders was not amused. ‘Jeffrey Harding!’
‘Only joking…sorry.’
‘Thank you for the cigarette Jeff, and for the nice feeling of moral superiority I will nurture for most of the day.’ Mrs Saunders nodded, turned her back on Jeff and started fiddling intently with one of her flower beds.
Back in the house, Jeff checked his email. There were precious few of note and he decided he wasn’t needed at the university quite yet. He rattled off a few quick replies to the marginally more important ones, then reclined on the sofa and wasted a few hours wonderfully immersed in his latest science fiction novel.
Chapter 3
A Gadium spaceship sat in orbit, a few thousand kilometres above Europe. The size of a small town, but even from up close it was hard to see. Its black surface shimmered along the conical shape, defining uncertain boundaries.
Commander Aytch marched smartly along inside the ship on his review of the critical systems. He moved purposefully through the corridors, skipping slightly to account for the ship-generated gravity, which was marginally less strong than his over-muscled biology would have preferred. As he passed through the various doorways, he stooped a little to get through some of them. The ship was enormous on the outside, but the space was taken up by the propulsion, stasis and communication systems. There was limited working space inside.
A few moments later he reached his final item to check, a heavy set of doors currently shut tight. He punched in the code, the doors slid open, and he entered the stasis room. Meticulously, Aytch inspected the main control panel. There were no critical biological life signs to be checked—time, within the tubes, was stopped—but the technical data on the stasis fields had to be checked carefully. There was one minor aberration. The Spectrawarp gravity wells were stable, with gravitational fields steady, but the space-time sheer readings for Commander Justio’s tube were only just within acceptable limits. Aytch made a record on his communications tablet and logged a new risk alert.
Aytch moved over to make a physical inspection of the actual tubes: three were empty and two were occupied. He checked on the inhabited tubes; the two humans looked fine; at least they looked fine for people frozen in time. He gave the empty stasis tubes a more thorough inspection. They all looked in good shape physically, no obvious malfunction or deterioration of the electronics. Ready for use, although the mission schedule didn’t have him assigned for a break in the next five years.
Aytch returned to the crew room which, unlike the rest of the ship, was spacious enough for two male Gadiums to work side by side in comfort. Commander Justio was sitting on the central bench, his concentration immersed in his own communications tablet. Aytch tried to catch Justio’s eye but, regrettably, failed.
Might as well complete the checks in here.
Everything was in good shape, although one of the two flight-chairs used for high gravitational manoeuvres had a small gyroscope malfunction.
Aytch walked over to where Justio was sitting. ‘Commander Justio. I’ve completed the standard checks. The regulations require your input on the two minor issues outstanding.’
Justio didn’t physically acknowledge Aytch’s arrival. He seemed to be engrossed in alternately fiddling with a console lying across his lap, and staring at the data on the walls. Aytch stood still, waiting.
After a few moments, Justio looked up. ‘All clear, did you say?’
‘There are two minor issues, the regulations require you to acknowledge.’ Aytch looked around the room quickly.
Justio reached out for Aytch’s communications tablet then, after quickly reviewing the items, rolled his eyes and stood. ‘I can fix that gyroscope now.’
‘It needs to be done.’
Standing up, Justio whispered under his breath. ‘We don’t need it for about 500 years.’
Aytch pretended not to hear.
Justio limped over to the flight chair, removed a panel and started working on it.
Aktch shuffled over to stand behind him, craning to observe the maintenance activity.
Justio turned. ‘Are you learning or marking me?’
‘Four eyes validation required for critical system parts, even if the fixes are minor.’
A few moments later Justio put the panel back. ‘All done. Now…back to my real work.’ He flicked through a few screens on his communication console. ‘I’ve refined some search parameters to allow for new data sources on Earth…social media and loyalty cards.’ He moved slowly back to the central bench, again his right leg not quite supporting his weight effectively. ‘It should help us correlate more data. But things are quiet at the moment, I may take a stasis break in a few months.’
Aytch looked at Justio’s right leg. Why doesn’t he get it fixed? Picking up his own communication console, Aytch sat on the bench facing a blank wall. ‘I have Level Five exams soon. Lots to do: case studies, error examples, lessons learned.’
‘Who’d believe a million years of operational missions could generate so much data?’ Justio raised an eyebrow. ‘Level Four is plenty enough qualification.’
A paragraph of text was displayed on the wall, Aytch looked up at it. ‘Professor Harkin’s critique on the Trogian Event. Do you mind if I turn on the audio narration? Studies show we retain more if we read and listen simultaneously.’
Justio shrugged. ‘As long as you don’t mind the occasional sighs of derision as the pomposity levels breach my defences…actually Harkin’s okay.’
A computer-generated narration voice read out the text.
Chapter 3.2.D—Trogian Event
Professor Harkin Commentary
‘The Trogian Event was a relatively recent inflection point in the collective attitude of the general populace of Gadium. Post the event there has been a significant revival in non-interventionist thinking and open criticism of the traditional precedent. It is no longer utterly unthinkable (or borderline heretical) to suggest the Gadium society should stop shepherding unemerged civilisations towards a Full Emergence. The Trogian Event is universally accepted to have been a catastrophe, particularly for the people of Trogia, and some genuine lessons must be taken by the other Gadium missions who are currently on station around an unemerged civilisation.’
Aytch turned to Justio. ‘How did the process allow for those decisions to be made?’
‘There were two commanders; one of them came up with the idea and the other one agreed.’
‘I don’t understand why. The process should stop them. Did they both go mad?’
‘The mission commanders tried to unnaturally accelerate the Emergence. Probably they were under pressure to get a good news story.’ Justio spoke clearly at the wall. ‘Detailed timeline please.’
A new screen of text was projected up and the narration continued.
Chapter3.2.B—Trogian Event
Summary Timeline
1. Trogia was host to a strong industrial-based sentient species
2. The species was free from energy and food deprivation
3. There were indications of a prevalence of Beta to Alpha transitions
4. One Trogian species member was found to be a Triple Alpha
5. The Triple Alpha was taken off Trogia into stasis
6. The wider species Emergence continued, more Beta to Alpha transitions
7. However, Emergence stalled at just under 1% of the population
Freezing the narration, Aytch turned to Justio. ‘It just stuck at 1%?’
‘Yes, a Partial; it happens.’
Aytch was concerned. ‘And they were sure it wasn’t just another Triple Alpha stopping the trans
itions?’
‘You have to assume they looked. Triples are pretty easy to spot.’
‘I would prefer to have nothing happen than to preside over a Partial Emergence.’ I’ve seen the personnel records of the Gadium Emergence Committee—no Partial Emergences there.
Justio spread his arms wide and looked up to the ceiling. ‘If it comes to Partial Emergence, your job…our job…is to limit damages. Come on, play the rest of this review so we can see exactly how it isn’t supposed to be done.’
Chapter3.2.B—Trogian Event
Summary Timeline (Continued)
8. Against all historical precedent the Gadium team on-site at Trogia tried to intervene to increase Beta to Alpha transitions, including revealing themselves to the Trogian governments
9. The Gadium team failed to proliferate the Alpha Emergence of the general population and failed to secure the trust of the Trogia population
10. Trogian nations learnt how to convert Alphas to Triple Alpha and did so—causing massive power imbalances
11. The Gadium team ended up trying to police a planet at war with itself
12. The planet is currently under transmission suppression—an enforced fallow period
Aytch stood up and starting pacing around the crew room. ‘What were the Gadium commanders thinking? The disgrace of it.’
Justio frowned. ‘How about a thought for the poor Trogians? An enforced fallow period—not good for them, not good at all.’
Chapter 4
On Saturday afternoon, the Daily Record offices buzzed with people preparing for the Sunday edition. Louise arrived and made a beeline for her desk. Walking across the main floor, she passed her colleagues, collecting cold shoulders mingled with a few warm greetings.
As she sat down at her desk, Karen, one of the good guys, walked over. ‘Busy today?’
‘Nah, just tidying. I’ll be out in an hour.’
