The World Game

by Allen Charles

  20 teenagers sat in the two front rows of the new Goddard auditorium quietly chatting and getting to know each other. This was the first time they had all come together since individually winning places in the Space City Experience competition. Evenly balanced between boys and girls, all the candidates were dressed casually, the regimentation of schools and uniforms left behind. The ethnic mix was comprehensive and demonstrated the intergration of diverse racial origins that has built the USA into a great, free and cohesive nation.

  Suddenly the buzz stopped as all attention was drawn to a tall man who had appeared at the podium. He smiled warmly, revealing perfect white teeth. His eyes sparkled with intelligence and were edged with lines of natural humor, further accentuated by strong features and a perfectly groomed head of silver hair. His voice was rich and warm.

  “Ladies and gentlemen. Welcome to Goddard Space Centre. My name is Lt. Col. John Fuller and I will be your liaison officer and instructor throughout your stay here at Goddard and Space City.

  Firstly let me congratulate every one of you on winning your placement. There are no short cuts to achieving this goal and your diligence and hard work has been noted and recognized. Your reward is being here today, about to enter the adventure of a lifetime.” He paused and surveyed the eager faces before him. “Before we proceed with orientation and Space Boot Camp, do any of you have any general questions?”

  There was silence before a hand went up. An Asian girl.

  “Yes? Please stand and state your name, then your question.”

  “Amy Young, Sir. As can be clearly seen, we are from many different places, backgrounds, religions and ways of life. We are all high school graduates and young adults and I for one would hope to make friends and develop relationships within our group. Will there be any restrictions upon our private relationships here or on Space City?”

  Fuller’s mouth twitched as he suppressed a grin. He had anticipated this type of question further down the track, just not right on the chin at first contact. He put his hand up to stifle a staged cough and then looked up with a straight face.

  “There are rules in living together in close quarters. These rules apply to all personnel on Space City and generally follow the normal routines of daily life. Married couples live together, with their children. Single people have individual living quarters and date and interact within the bounds of the rules. Space City is not the place to develop a private relationship and the Council will enforce the rules.” He put his arms out and shrugged and allowed a little smile to show, “So no nooky-nooky on the City. OK?”

  The group burst out in laughter and Amy made a wry face and swung her arm in an exaggerated shucks. She sat down.

  Fuller signed for quiet and continued. “You will all receive a coms file of the rules for Space City. You will need to read them, know and understand them before we ascend. You will be tested on these rules. The only acceptable result is one hundred percent. Any more questions?”

  There were none. Fuller moved from the podium. “If you will all follow me, we will pick up youniforms and equipment and I will show you to your rooms here at Goddard. For the next two weeks you are in Space City Boot Camp. Your attention to detail is crucial. It will save your life in space.” He stopped walking after three paces and turned back to face the crowd of students. “From now on we get serious about this people.” He turned and led them out of the auditorium.

  They came to a large, long room with lockers down one wall. Each locker had a candidate name on an electronic security touch panel on the locker door. At the base of each locker, below the main door, there was a small hatch.

  “Find your locker and stand along side it to the left. As of this moment we are under strict military discipline.” Fuller marched along the row of standing cadets and assumed a harsh, instructive tone.

  “You obey all instructions immediately and without question. There will be no please, or thank you from myself or other staff. You will be addressed as “cadet” and by your last name, which must be visible on your uniform at all times. You will acknowledge instructions with “yes sir” or “no sir” as the case may be.”

  Fuller paused, looking along the line of dumbfounded faces. “Anyone who does not wish to comply with these instructions should depart now.” The silence was tangible. A few cadets looked at each other in horror, wondering what they had got themselves into. But no one spoke, or left.

  “Right, let’s get on with it then. Open your lockers, read the instructions on the door, and become familiar with your youniforms and equipment. You will note the small hatch at the bottom of your locker. That is where your personal buddy parks itself when not active. You will get to meet your buddy shortly. For now, touch the green “screen” button, follow the directions and change into your youniforms.”

  As each cadet pressed the button a green fabric modesty screen ejected from the locker door frame and curled around and back, enclosing just enough space to change clothing.

  “Cadets.” called out Fuller, everything off down to the skin. That means plasdaids, feminine hygiene, l-eye-v lenses. Anything. Your youniform will take care of all those matters as soon as you put it on. Your youniform is the ONLY piece of clothing you will wear 24/7. Together with your buddy, it cleans you and itself, and will take care of you if you take care of it. Hurry now. Another thirty seconds and the screens go back ready or not.”

  There were some noises of panic from a couple of the screens and one screen bounced as the occupant tripped over his own gear. thirty seconds later the screens retracted leaving most of the cadets standing straight by their lockers, looking smart in their deep blue youniforms. One of the boys was in a complete mess with his youniform on backwards. Fuller sauntered over to the backward youniform cadet and looked him up and down.

  “Well, what are you going to do about this cadet?”

  “Umm, yes sir. Ermm, no sir, I don’t know sir.”

  “Do you know where your butt is cadet?”

  “Yes sir.”

  “So why isn’t your butt in the butt end of the youniform cadet?”

  “It was sir, when I put it on. It keeps turning around on its own sir.”

  “How did you put it on cadet?”

  “I pulled it over my head and slid my legs in sir.”

  “Did you read the instructions on how to put on the youniform cadet?”

  “Sort of sir.”

  “You did not see them or you ignored them cadet?”

  “I couldn’t read them clearly without my contact lenses sir, so I guess I ignored them sir.”

  “That could cost you your life cadet. NEVER ignore instructions. Follow them to the letter. The youniform is made of DNA keyed allo-iso-skin. The youniform is YOU cadet. Read the instructions now.” There was a short pause as the cadet squinted at the few lines. “The instructions state clearly, what, cadet?”

  “Sir they say, put your fingertips of your right hand on the corresponding fingertips of the youniform and press the yellow Form-on button. The youniform will flow onto your body automatically and seal itself into place. To remove youniform put your right hand onto the youniform holder and press the red Form-off button.”

  “Well cadet?”

  The cadet looked at the red button, then back at Fuller, his face a mask of horrified realization. “But sir...”

  “DO IT!” There was muffled laughter coming from the others as the cadet hesitantly put his fingers onto the holder and pressed the red button. The youniform immediately began to flow back off his body into the storage unit as he turned around so only his bare butt would be totally and embarrassingly exposed. The muffled explosions of mirth from the cadets were met by an icy look from Fuller as the last vestiges of the boy’s modesty were dragged back into the cabinet. This was one cadet who always read instructions from now on.

  Suddenly the girl standing next to the hapless cadet pirouetted on her toes and slammed her hand onto the green screen button of his cabinet. With a grateful look the cadet pul
led the screen around until he could reacquire his youniform correctly. Moments later the screen retracted and a fully clad cadet stood there with a straight face and at attention.

  Fuller almost let his stern expression slip into the smile of amusement that was trying to surface. He looked at the girl cadet. “You, cadet,” he beckoned with a thrust of the chin, “step forward.”

  The girl confidently took a step forward, a look of defiance on her face.

  “What is your name cadet?”

  “Felicity Hannaford, sir!”

  “Cadet Hannaford, who gave you instructions to interfere with the cadet’s situation?”

  “No one sir.”

  “You will report to my office after we dismiss, cadet.”

  She took in a deep breath. “Yes sir!”

  Fuller walked the length of the locker room, inspecting each cadet and allowing time for the tension to dissipate.

  “I now draw your attention to your buddies. Does anyone know what a buddy is?” He stopped pacing and looked up and down the ranks. He was surprised when the cadet of backwards uniform fame stepped forward. He walked up to the cadet and got right into his face, nose to nose. “Your name cadet?”

  “Gerald Shaw, sir.”

  “Cadet Shaw, for all present to hear, explain what a buddy is.”

  Shaw looked straight ahead and spoke up. “Sir, a buddy in any context is a personal, close friend, someone you can rely upon under any circumstances. The NASA personal buddy is a biobot derivation of semi-organic hybrid protoplasm that has been enhanced with human stem cells for intelligence, earthworm DNA for structure and organic armor growth from deep water sulphur based life forms found around volcanic activity in the Mariana Trench and the Red Sea. The organic strains have been refined and defined to be self-replicating and repairing. A buddy can pair with one human being by thought induction over a cerebral cortex link. The buddy is essentially impervious to heat, cold, vacuum, corrosive substances, radiation, biological hazards, projectiles and virtually anything outside of an immediate nuclear blast.”

  Fuller pursed his lips and shook his head . “Impressive cadet Shaw. Very impressive.” Fuller looked up and down the line. “Can anyone add to cadet Shaw’s description. Someone tell us how the buddy actually functions and interfaces?”

  Felicity Hannaford stepped forward. No one else moved a muscle.

  “Hmm,” Fuller mused. “we seem to have a vaudeville duo with these two. OK cadet Hannaford, let’s hear what you have to add.”

  “Sir. The buddy coexists with its host as a beneficial symbiont. It takes intellectual nourishment from the host thought processes and grows with and into the host. The buddy physically attaches itself to the host forming a helmet like covering over the whole head, but able to leave facial areas clear. The rest of the buddy forms a molecular mono layer over the whole host, creating total coverage and integrating with the youniform.

  The buddy is able to anticipate the needs of the host by knowing the thoughts and emotions of the host through the cerebral cortex induction link. The buddy will form a total cover of the host, including face, eyes, ears and nose, and will provide oxygen, water and nourishment to the host as long as raw materials are available to the buddy on the outer surface. The buddy will work with the youniform and create clear panes for sight, with polarization to control light intensity.

  The buddy will empathize with other buddies, providing instant communications for the host, and finally, the buddy will neutralize and recycle all host waste materials, including exhalation in a closed situation. The buddy takes waste that the youniform creates and shreds that waste back to molecular size. It then reassembles the molecules into whatever can logically be made and is needed by the host or for its own survival.”

  Felicity stopped. There was silence. Fuller looked the cadets up and down once more. “It is time to meet your buddies. Facing your lockers, press the blue button on the top right edge of your shelf and then look straight down. It is imperative that you look down and make eye contact with your buddy the instant it emerges. This is the critical bonding stage. Anyone who fails this stage will leave the program. Understood?”

  “Yes sir!” came back in unison.

  “Cadets, about face and do it!”

  CHAPTER 6

  The White House - Situation Room. 24th June.

  “Mr. President, Madam Secretary, please watch this recording of the Korean Hegemony cabinet meeting some two hours ago. I must warn you that there are extremely violent and distressing events recorded.” The director of the Asia - Iran Intelligence Group pressed a button and a fully three dimensional image of the Korean conference room materialized. The President and Secretary of State watched from a viewpoint above the conference table, and heard everything that had taken place in Korea two hours earlier.

  At the execution of Jun Park the Secretary of State collapsed back retching in horror, barely keeping her lunch down. The Director paused the recording until she recovered. She apologized for her reaction and bade him to proceed. to the conclusion of the meeting. From the recording angle, Jun Park’s dead eyes stared up at the camera from the floor the whole time.

  Shaking her head and fanning herself with a sheaf of top severet documents, she asked, “Director Hanes, is it out of line for me to ask how you obtained this recording?”

  “Madam Secretary, our technology has allowed us to see into all our allies and enemies alike for quite some time. I would not have breached security today had this matter not been of the gravest concern. The only location we do not have a permanent facility in place is the central government of the Iranian Islamic Empire. Since they went to extreme fundamentalism and reverted to tent life, we could not place a long term facility in a non permanent structure, their council tent. Due to the nature of the technology, we have to rely on secondary intelligence from the fixed structure homes of high officials.”

  The President tapped his pen on the desk blotter absentmindedly. “Do we have confirming intelligence that Jong Il is right about Iran? Are they ready to strike? A whole nation of suicide bombers. It is beyond belief. Has God abandoned us completely?”

  “Mr. President, we have sufficient intel from Iranian officials speaking out of place, casually, in their homes for our analysts to say that there is an eighty percent certainty that Jong Il is right. Korean Hegemony must have a mole planted high in the Iranian Empire to be so sure of himself. Recall that it was the former North Korea that supplied the materials and advisors for the Iranian nuclear establishment. He would certainly have embedded sleeper spies during that time. The sad matter is that our President back in 2010 had the opportunity to strike and demolish Iran’s fledgling nuclear capability and he didn’t. Today we are about to reap the poisonous fruits of that failure.”

  “Director, is there any indication when there would be a first strike from Iran?”

  “Mr. President, we are watching the mobilisation of the Iranian Empire armed forces and the placement of their nuclear missiles. Our assessment is that a strike will occur within the next 72 hours.”

  The President shifted to the edge of his seat, his knuckles white as he gripped the armrests, listening intently, jaw clenched.

  The Secretary of State picked up the thread, “So we have to assume that Korea will strike immediately if their threat analysis is the same. Mr. President, Director, I need to leave now and call a meeting of the Joint Chiefs. We should raise the Homeland Security alert to Red. Mr. President, do you have any other instructions for me?”

  “Other than get the Joint Chiefs in here fast, no.”

  The Secretary of State left, racing out the door.

  “Chuck, what are our options here. Before the brass turns up. I don’t want this to become a war of words and I can’t chop off heads like that psychopath in Pyonyang. Do we need to do a double header and take out Pyonyang and Teheran right now? Do we have satellite capability to knock down any missiles they fire? Straight Chuck. We have been friends for a long time. No bullshit
.”

  With just the two of them in the room, formality went out the door.

  “OK Tom. We have some defensive satellite capability. We can take out a small number of missiles during flight, but to attempt to cover the whole shooting match between these two, well, quite a few are going to get through.

  We do have test ready one of our new AMD devices we could use as a last resort. An Anti-Matter Device would take out all the missiles and everything else in the air. It would destroy the ozone layer in its effective destructive region and maybe send us the way of the dinosaurs. Its untested, we just don’t know what it will do.”

  The President shook his head and threw up his hands. “Damned if we do and damned if we don’t. Chuck, we are talking about Armageddon here. The possible end of the world. Because of two lunatics. Sheesh. We can’t even throw some blame at Israel for it this time.”

  The President looked up at his friend suddenly, squinted in thought and grabbed the telephone off his desk. “Get me Rafi Ben-Gurion right now,” he ordered the operator, then replaced the phone. Thirty seconds later it trilled and the President snatched up the handset. A deep voice came through, “Ben-Gurion here Tom, what can I do for you today?” asked the President of Israel.

  CHAPTER 7

  Goddard Space Center - Skyhook Base. 24th June.

  “Stand at ease cadet Hannaford.” Fuller walked around her, hands clasped behind his back. “Cadet Hannaford, by what authority did you interfere in my direct order to another cadet in a matter that was no business of yours?”

  “It was my business sir.”

  Fuller raised an eyebrow. “Oh! How do you see that cadet?”

  “Sir,” she took a deep breath, “it is clearly obvious that we must look out for each other at all times. At what point does this obligation to look out for the other start? I believe at every point sir. Even the most insignificant point... Sir.” Felicity paused to gather her thoughts.