The Cronian Incident (The Formist Book 1)

by Matthew Williams

  “I joined the great Martian colonization effort. I was by no means the first to go. But by the time I decided to sign on, the effort had grown by leaps and bounds. The initial wave of arrivals had set up the first dwellings and established the agro operations. Myself and the others, we were part of the upgrade. We brought our skill and expertise to a planet bursting with opportunity for growth and expansion. Everything we had learned about geoengineering during our efforts to save Earth suddenly had endless applications. Mars was like a big red canvas, and we were set to turn it green.”

  “That’s oddly poetic,” said Ward.

  Pinter laughed and gently slapped him on the shoulder. Ward laughed too, until he remembered it was a quantum construct touching him. The idea was still very alien.

  “I seem to be reciting from my biography. I apologize. I don’t get to talk to people outside of my colleagues very often.”

  “Quite all right,” Ward said. “Though I am interested to know how this all pertains to your missing associate.”

  Pinter pursed his lips and nodded. “Ah yes, my grandson told you about that already. Good.” Turning his back on the ocean view, he leaned against the balcony’s edge and crossed his arms. “Doctor David Lee, a long-time associate of ours, has gone missing. And we need someone to find him.”

  Ward also turned around and crossed his arms. He was sure to pay extra close attention at this point, not wanting to miss a single detail.

  “This represents a bit of a challenge, seeing as how he was visiting several of the Outer Worlds on official business. We can’t rule out the possibility this incident was not unrelated to that business.”

  “And the local authorities, you don’t trust them to find him?”

  Pinter made a vague gesture. “As much as it pains me to say this, it seems we cannot trust the local authorities in this case. As you are well aware given your previous employ, kidnappings are not uncommon in the Outer Worlds, especially where citizens of the Inner Worlds are concerned.”

  “Oh yes,” Ward said. He had investigated a few such disappearances back in his day. It came as no surprise Pinter and his people were looking for outside help. Where high-profile citizens were concerned, the Outer Worlds were often welcoming of foreign agents. One less worry for their own security forces, and a way of ensuring relations did not become more strained.

  “My associates have gone so far as to suggest someone among the local authorities may have been involved.”

  Ward raised a quizzical eyebrow at that suggestion. “Is there any evidence to that effect?”

  “No. However, one cannot dismiss the possibility of there being some kind of complicity. There’s even been talk of someone within our own organization having been involved.”

  Ward frowned. This was all beginning to sound too little conspiratorial for his taste. However, he knew Pinter hadn’t yet told him everything. Perhaps there was reason to be suspicious.

  “Emile alluded to something about ‘sensitive materials’.” Ward placed special emphasis on the words. “What exactly was he was carrying, this Doctor Lee?”

  Pinter smiled carefully and turned back to the sea. “Well, that’s where things get a little complicated.”

  Ward scoffed quietly. He had a feeling bringing that part of the job up would elicit such a reaction. Pinter seemed very much like he needed to think to find the right combination of words.

  “What was it? Something illegal? Or simply unethical?” Ward asked.

  That got a laugh from Pinter. To Ward’s relief, it sounded genuine, and not like a nervous one. Perhaps there was a happy ending to this story, rather than an ugly secret.

  “Doctor Lee’s purpose out there was little more than the usual Formist business. He was investigating operations on Callisto and Titan, looking to boost our acquisitions of resources. It’s just.” Pinter hesitated for a moment and glanced down at the deck. “That’s the short version, I’m afraid. If you want to know more, I might need to change our venue.”

  Ward peered at their surroundings. He wasn’t completely sure what Pinter meant by this, but given the importance he’d ascribed to it earlier. “I think you better give me the long version.”

  Pinter turned to face him and sighed. “All right. But this may take some time. Don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

  Ward stood up from the rail and braced himself. Pinter raised his hand and tilted his head skyward. His eyes became distant, and then the room began to distort and lose shape. Within a heartbeat, everything was gone, a moment of blackness in which only Ward and Pinter were real.

  Ward felt the slightest wave of vertigo. His feet were still standing on solid ground, but his mind refused to believe it. Looking down was like staring into an endless void. Just as abruptly as it had all disappeared, a new set of surroundings appeared before he felt like he would fall.

  In this new reality, they were standing in a meadow, grass beneath their feet. Trees surrounded them on all sides. The air was cooler, fresh with the smell of vegetation and ozone. Ward’s nose detected what smelt like fresh water, and the light scents of wildflowers and sweet grass.

  “Sorry,” Pinter said by way of apology. “I know the transition can be difficult at first. I should have warned you. But this, essentially speaking, is what Lee was up to out there. This is what we’re all working for.”

  Ward’s looked about in all directions, soaking up the view. Before, in the studio apartment, he’d had some indication of where they were standing. Here there were no familiar landmarks, no signs of cities, nothing indicating where there were, though he suspected they were still on Earth.

  Eventually, his eyes settled on the sky, a rich blue tableau with gentle white clouds. At one point on the horizon, he spotted a thin white line extending into the sky. It appeared very much like the Drift, though that seemed impossible. Given the rest of their surroundings, he conceded he was looking up at the Thread, Earth’s own space elevator, possibly from somewhere in equatorial Africa.

  When he spotted the two misshapen moons, hanging there in the sky like translucent gems, he instantly recognized them, and realized their true location.

  “We’re on Mars.” The words came out in quiet disbelief.

  “That’s right. More specifically, we’re in Haumasia Planum. This is what it will look like in a few thousand years or so. After all this time, we’ll have finally thickened the atmosphere to the point it’s breathable, warm enough the ice caps and the permafrost have melted. An ocean now covers everything from minus twenty degrees latitude to the North Pole, and the Argyre and Hellas Basins are both freshwater seas.”

  Ward had to give the old man credit. The environment was very convincing, though he failed to see the need for it.

  “So that’s what this is all about? Full-scale terraforming?”

  “Yes, and how we plan to go about implementing it.” Pinter walked unhurriedly towards him, shaking a finger thoughtfully. “As I said, Mr. Ward, this is what Mars may look like thousands of years from now. But have you ever stopped to contemplate how such a goal would be futile with that kind of time frame? The earliest colonists, they settled here back in the day because we all feared humanity needed a backup location to ensure we wouldn’t go extinct, assuming the worst happened on Earth. And we believed it might, before the last few decades of the twenty-first century proved us wrong.

  “By that time, the goal of Mars shifted to something less severe, but no less ambitious. We wanted to create a second home for humanity, one which would allow us to migrate outward, spread our civilization to other planets. Once again, I felt privileged to be part of something great and historic. But in time, I realized there were still stakes at hand.”

  “Like what? The harvest failing? The air filters breaking down? The greywater not getting recycled properly?”

  Pinter smiled benevolently, like a pedagogue who had been asked an innocent but entirely ignorant question. Ward felt a little embarrassed. His question was hardly meant to be sarcastic.


  “I am talking about the Great Acceleration, Inspector,” Pinter replied. “Do you understand what I mean by that?”

  Ward shook his head. Everything about this conversation, if it might be called that, was beginning to get awfully esoteric. He sensed there was likely an answer waiting at the end of it, so he continued to listen. Taking a breath, Pinter began to explain:

  “To be fair, these phenomena started long before you and I were ever born. In reality, it began when human beings mastered the art of machinery, and turned the greater share of their production over to automation. Within a very short space of time, our numbers exploded, our occupancy and dependence on the Earth’s resources multiplied. Fittingly, our geologists began to call the modern era the Anthropocene, because we were now the single greatest factor in our planet’s evolution.

  “And, as I said, it almost killed us. But as always seems to be the case, we were rescued by a bit of a paradox. All the machinery our lives had come to depend upon, the very act of living in crowded cities with millions of inhabitants, it had a tremendous upside as well. It freed up our minds, improved our communications, and enhanced our opportunities for education and innovation. By the time the twenty-first century had rolled around, the acceleration had become so fast it was almost immeasurable.”

  Ward was hit by a flash of recognition. “You’re talking about the Singularity?”

  Pinter smiled again, but this time with a look of respect. “Precisely, Inspector. Colonization of places like Mars began because people were looking to ensure human survival. But what do you imagine the reason was when the Great Migration began?”

  Ward recognized this line of thought as well. It too was something few people didn’t learn about in their formative years.

  “Basically, they thought life was getting too complicated, too crowded and harassed on Earth.”

  “Right again, Inspector. You see, that quickly became a very difficult task. When the first waves of colonists began to leave Earth for off-world places, they went to Luna and Mars to start a new life. However, it wasn’t long before people like me began to follow – developers and industrialists who wanted to create advanced, technically adept societies. We brought with us the latest in nanotech and biotech enhancements to see that happen, not to mention Level III sentients and the Survey. For anyone leaving Earth to live a simpler life, our work all but ensured their efforts would be in vain. For people who left the nest not to preserve our species, but to preserve a way of life, these individuals had to look farther afield.”

  “Hence the great divide between the Extros – those who seek to improve themselves with the aid of technology – and Retros, who crave a simpler, less complicated existence,” Ward summarized. “I still don’t see what this has to do with your missing associate.”

  “So much, Inspector. So much. You see, the current balance that exists in our Universe between the Inner Worlds – Venus, Earth and Mars – and all the colonies existing in the Jovian, Cronian and Uranian systems of the gas giants will not last forever. Humanity is still growing and needs to find new vistas. What our analysts have been saying for generations about population growth being under control and humanitarian crises being a thing of the past is a lie. Sooner or later, we will need to ensure planets like Mars can be adapted for full-scale settlement. However, something like this can’t wait for a thousand years.”

  “All right,” Ward said, offering Pinter’s appraisal the benefit of the doubt. “So, what’s the holdup? I know I’ve been away for a few years, but if you and your people aren’t willing to wait that long, why haven’t you made these moves already?”

  Pinter flashed the benevolent smile again. “Do you understand the process involved, Inspector? Do you know what it would take to make the Martian environment wet and warm, as it once was?” Ward shook his head. Admittedly, they were truly out of his wheelhouse on this one. “It’s not a matter of pumping gases into the atmosphere. To do what we have planned in a reasonable time frame, we need to set off a series of cataclysmic reactions, the kind not seen since the end of the Mesozoic Era. Such a process won’t happen lightly, and it requires a great deal of care. It also requires that the people of Mars, currently living in their sealed environments, agree to subject themselves to the transition.”

  Ward took another look around their environment and scratched his chin. His eyes went heavenward again, looking in the direction of the Drift.

  “What about the Gyros and their settlements? What about the Dysonists and all their schemes? It doesn’t seem like there’s a real shortage of room out there.”

  Pinter accepted the rebuttal with a respectful nod. “It’s true. We are no longer at a point in our history where human beings need to be tied to a terrestrial environment. But one look at our population statistics is enough to show we primitive monkeys still prefer solid ground beneath our feet, rather than a cylinder. We prefer to breathe fresh air, rather than the recycled kind. And we prefer our food and water come directly from the land.”

  It was Ward’s turn to issue an acknowledging head bob. For someone who had spent what seemed like an eternity in a sealed facility on a dead world, the mere sight of green trees and the smell of fresh air were almost enough to make him weep. Were he still aware of it, he might have thought it odd he was hearing about the virtues of authentic living from a quantum simulation. At this point, he had given up all pretense of talking to an uploaded mind and truly felt like he was talking to Pinter Chandrasekhar.

  “So, what, your associate was procuring these off-world resources so you can speed up the time table? Terraform in a century or so instead of a few millennia?”

  “A thousand years from now, floating clouds of computronium and spinning cylinders in deep space may be all that’s left of humanity. Before that time comes, I would like to see my people walking the Red Dunes without pressure suits. I want to see them planting crops in open fields. I want them to know what it’s like to look out onto a landscape covered by green grass, tall forests, and blue oceans. It will take generations still, but this way, our way.”

  Ward sighed. He had indeed been treated to an earful from the kindly specter of Pinter Chandrasekhar. Now, he finally felt they had reached the point where he understood what he was being asked to do. In addition to finding a missing person, someone Pinter and his colleagues obviously valued, he was also being asked to ensure that the dream of countless Martians came true in the foreseeable future.

  “Okay, so we covered what your colleague was doing out there and what this is all about,” Ward said at last. “Now why do you think he went missing?”

  Pinter’s face took on that same careful smile again. “Well, that’s where things get a little mysterious.”

  Eleven

  The door slid open, bathing Ward in the bright light of the hallway. He stepped out, oblivious to the fact that he was moving from one world into another, for his mind was fully preoccupied with the things he had learned within the Heilig room. So much so, he failed to register the presence of Emile Chandrasekhar until he spoke.

  “How was it?” Emile asked, startling Ward a little.

  “Oh! It was interesting, I guess.”

  “Did he answer your questions?”

  “Yeah,” Ward said, emphatically. “Though I’m not sure they were useful.”

  Emile laughed heartily. “I should have warned you. He likes to talk. These days, he spends much of his time alone in that room, researching and thinking. I honestly think he’d be more useful on the lecture circuit.”

  Emile waited patiently. He understood the disorientation that came from going from one world to the next. Transitioning from an environment where all things were simulated, but still seemed physically real, to one where things were unquestionably real, but indistinguishable to the senses. It had been known to take a toll on one’s sense of what was real and what was not. Unconcernedly, Emile leaned against the corridor’s wall until Ward came completely back to the present.

  It took a
moment for Ward’s mind to clear. “So, what now?”

  “Well, that depends on you. There are more details to go over, and there’s the small matter of restoring your enhancements – with some minor updates, of course. Then there’s the removal of the wetware the prison had placed in your head.” Emile tapped at his temple again, indicating the presence of the unwanted neural augments.

  Ward smiled darkly. “Right, once I’m signed on, I’ll officially be a convict laborer, and not subject to System law, which requires I carry the mandated restraints.”

  “Quite right. But before I can file the paperwork, as they say, I need to know what your decision is. What will it be, Mr. Ward? Are you in or out?”

  So, they had come to it at last, had they? The great Pinter Chandrasekhar had given him enough information to let him know what was at stake and to whet his investigatory appetite. Now Pinter’s grandson wanted a firm answer before bringing him in any further. He had hoped to have more time to mull things over before they reached this point, but things certainly seemed to have come to a head.

  “All right, I’m in,” stated Ward. He almost surprised himself with the strength of his answer, though a part of him had known he would accept the job regardless.

  A broad smile broke across Emile’s face.

  “Excellent! We can complete briefing you later. Now, after the long journey” Emile wrapped an arm around Ward’s shoulder and his voice dropped to a conspiratorial whisper. “and listening to my grandfather for the past hour, I imagine you might want to take some rest.”

  Ward blinked rapidly. “An hour? Was I only in there that long?”

  “I’m afraid so,” Emile said with a gentle snort. “As I said, he likes to talk. And being with him in there, time itself can lose all meaning.”

  The pair stood there for a second, Ward mulling over his confusion while Emile waited for an answer. Finally, Ward nodded and responded in the affirmative.

  “Yeah, I could use some food and a bit of downtime.”