Home Planet: Arcadia (Part 3)

by Sedgwick, T. J.

  “Twenty minutes until intercept with the Juno Ark,” said Laetitia, weightlessness taking an increasing hold.

  “I never thought I’d see this,” said Aulani smiling gracefully.

  “It still amazes me to this day,” I said.

  “Perhaps other civilized societies are down there,” she said.

  “Laetitia and I spent several orbits scanning the radio frequencies. The signs weren’t encouraging,” I said.

  “So the rest are savages run by leaders like Valdus?” said Baas with concern.

  “Maybe ... it’s hard to say. But I think you’d be risking a lot if they found you rather than you finding them. I mean, imagine if Valdus and his men had turned up on your doorstep? Rather than just losing Lars and David you’d have lost your entire city, your islands.”

  “He’s right,” said Patton. “We’ve been putting off our exploration efforts for as long as I can remember. Our future lies on Earth, no matter what ends up happening with the Juno Ark. We should bear that in mind.”

  “What do you mean exactly, Kale? I thought you supported Project Phoenix,” said Baas.

  “Oh, I do, but that doesn’t mean I want to leave behind what we’ve built on Hawaii. Do you?” Patton said, the first tones of tension creeping into his voice.

  “Well yes, if it means rebuilding humanity on an Earthlike planet in the Aura system,” said Baas, matching his defensiveness. “You’ve seen how they lived before; you’ve been to the Forever World. It’s humankind’s destiny. We’d be fulfilling what Luker and the others couldn’t do the first time around. No offense, Dan.”

  “None taken,” I said, smiling.

  “It’s a matter of resources, Leon. You know th—” said Patton, becoming angry before Aulani called time-out.

  “Look, guys, we’ve voted the resolution to support Project Phoenix, so let’s just stop debating it shall we?” she said.

  “That’s right, Aulani,” said Baas, staring at Patton who shook his head dissentingly.

  “Devil’s in the detail,” muttered Patton under his breath.

  Baas heard him, of that I was sure. But he decided to change the subject.

  “Looking forward to meeting Mr. Reichs,” said Baas to Laetitia.

  She smiled fondly.

  “Yes, Arnie is a most inspirational character—a genius of his time,” she said, sycophantically.

  I rolled my eyes. Not exactly how I’d describe him, I thought. Boy, they’re gonna be disappointed when they see him. Managing expectations didn’t seem to feature in Laetitia’s programming.

  Minutes later, the distant speck a thousand miles above Earth began to grow in detail. We approached from below in the same pro-grade direction as the mile-long starship. All eyes stayed fixed on the Juno as we climbed ever closer. The solar panels—each two thirds as long as the ship—glinted in the sunlight.

  “I guess the solar panels aren’t normally out,” said Baas.

  Aulani—science and tech councilor—answered. “No, they provide auxiliary power and are stowed during high speed operations. They’re unfurled because the fusion reactors died. Laetitia explained this the other day.”

  I gave her the thumbs up. At least one of them was listening.

  The shuttle slowed and tracked at a snail’s pace along the underside of the ship. A short burn matched the speed and heading of Juno with us floating sixty feet beneath Module 2.

  “What the hell happened?” said Patton, exhaling, his eyes surveying the damage.

  Ask Laetitia, I felt like saying. She was probably there at the time.

  “Looks like an explosion—must’ve happened during the battle for control,” I said.

  “I can see why nobody won and the ship ended up here with so few survivors,” said Aulani.

  “Indeed,” I said. “But regardless of how it happened, we need to work out how to fix it. With Module 2 like this, the ship’s going nowhere.”

  “So do you have a plan?” said Aulani.

  “Well, I’m no engineer, but since you asked…” I said and went on to explain my ideas.

  First, we’d need to remove Module 2. There was an emergency disconnect mechanism built into the design. They’d put it there in case an uncontrollable fire or loss of integrity and the only way to save people was to ditch the damaged portion of the ship. After five centuries, I had grave doubts over the emergency disconnect actually working. And given the damage, it was less likely still. So we’d need to disconnect the internal connections—link tunnels, service tunnel, cabling, pipes and all the rest of it—then do the same on the outside. For this, we’d need space walks, lots of spacewalks as well as all the necessary tools and cutters. We couldn’t just go ahead and cut out the damaged module. An uncontrolled Module 2 could nudge into the adjacent parts of the ship, causing it to spin and destabilize. Any such collision would spell disaster. So the second key stage would be controlling the relative movement of the three portions of the Juno. For the majority of the ship, rear of Module 2, this would be relatively straightforward using the maneuvering thrusters at the stern. Modules 1 and 2 had no thrusters, and with no space capability apart from the shuttles. It left no other choice. We’d need to figure out a way to use them to nudge out the disconnected Module 2 and move Module 1 in service of that aim. And for this to work, we needed more than one shuttle.

  Then would come the reconnection phase.

  “Easy then,” joked Baas.

  “Anything but,” I said. “And we’re looking at years, not months, of course.”

  No one, including Laetitia, had any better plans, so we moved from the whats to the hows.

  This went on for half an hour, but it seemed clear to me that none of us had the expertise to solve it.

  “Guys, I suggest we take a look inside and meet Reichs. He’ll get twitchy if we’re late,” I said to Laetitia’s disapproving looks.

  “You’re right, Dan,” said Aulani. “We don’t have anything like the expertise to do this. We need to pull together a team of scientists and engineers from the Forever World. Many of the original Juno team are still alive there. Their help will be vital.”

  Refreshingly, there was agreement all around.

  Laetitia lined up the shuttle with the launch tube—still protruding at an acute angle from Module 6 in the open position. We crawled toward the round aperture under autopilot and eased into the dimly lit tunnel. An airlock door sped shut behind us and simultaneously the one in front shot open allowing the shuttle to continue its course. We emerged under thruster power into the brighter space of the launch deck and its cavernously high ceiling. The shuttle found some space, pirouetted one-eighty and lined up with the launch tube for its next sortie, before landing with a soft thud. Just before the internal display surfaces shut down, I caught site of Reichs in the control bulb high above.

  No need to hurry, I thought, relishing every second not with Reichs.

  A few minutes later, Reichs joined and we had the round of obligatory handshakes. He hadn’t bothered making an effort for his visitors, his beard as wild as his eyes, his clothes as filthy as his teeth. The three councilors sure gave him a few strange looks, especially when he kissed his so-called wife. They all knew by then that she was an android.

  “He takes some getting used to,” I whispered to Patton.

  “Now, it’s a while since my good lady wife and I had company. Would you like some coffee or tea?” said Reichs.

  “Not for me thanks,” said Baas as the Patton and Aulani politely declined.

  “Let’s just show them around,” I said. “But we can pick up some supplies before we head back.”

  I was thinking of my morning coffee more than anything.

  “Alright then, let’s go show you folks around.”

  He led the way sternwards, away from the dead in the stasis module and the battle scars of the front half of the ship. They’d see it at some point so it didn’t matter. First stop: the workshop at the top of Module 7. It held four large fabricators, none
of which worked. Reichs and Laetitia explained what they thought was wrong with them. It wasn’t the highest priority—the fusion reactors and removal of Module 2 were—but they’d be needed if we were to avoid shipping everything from Earth. Although shuttle fuel wasn’t an immediate problem, the number of sorties were still limited.

  As we moved on to Module 8, we passed the vast wealth of material in the main stores. The visitors couldn’t believe the quantities. Aulani explained that it’d take them decades to gather the same. They could manufacture most things thanks to their own fabricators, but they only had two of them and obtaining raw materials was often a problem. Most of the rarer materials they scavenged from the forested ruins of Honolulu and other settlements. It reminded me that so much more died when the asteroid hit. The entire network of global trade, manufacturing and extraction had ceased to exist, too.

  “What we could do with all this,” said Patton as we entered the link tunnel, leaving the stores behind.

  I detected something in this comment and others from Patton. He seemed to resent that Reichs and Laetitia effectively controlled so many resources while he and his people had to work their behinds off for to maintain what they had. The dome city was a marvelous achievement if you asked me, but it was still austere at times.

  Module 8 was one enormous space containing the four fusion reactors and associated plants. The ceiling rose two hundred feet above the dull metallic floor. As the five of us emerged from the lower link tunnel, the four giant reactors loomed large either side of the central walkway. They took up the forward two-thirds of the three-hundred foot long module, resting on four sturdy legs, two either side of us. Pipework clambered all over their spherical bodies like metallic vines. Only the reactors’ undersides retained their metallic shine, with everything else as grimy and aged as the rest of the ship. The floor below the reactors was full with terminals and control panels and piping. We followed Reichs to the rear of the module. There stood the blue vertical storage cylinders labeled D-T Fuel on the left of the central walkway. Next to them were the far more numerous red cylinders, which held chemical fuels for the maneuvering thrusters.

  “The blue cylinders contained deuterium-tritium fuel for the fusion reactors,” said Laetitia. “These supply the ship and main engines with power. The fuel has been expended and the fusion reactors have shut down as a result.” She pointed to another tank nestling behind the blue fusion fuel cylinders. “The process behind generates tritium,” she said.

  “What is tritium exactly? And deuterium for that matter?” asked a confused looking Baas.

  Aulani went to explain, but was beaten to it by Laetitia who was on a roll.

  “Tritium is hydrogen-3 or 3H. It is a radioactive isotope of hydrogen. The nucleus of tritium contains one proton and two neutrons, whereas the nucleus of protium contains one proton and no neutrons—”

  “Protium being regular hydrogen molecules,” said Aulani, anticipating Baas’s question.

  He nodded and Laetitia continued.

  “Tritium is extremely rare on Earth. Only trace amounts are formed by the interaction of the atmosphere with cosmic rays. But regardless of how it is made, it has a half-life of 12.32 years so must be produced for interstellar missions. Arnie and I have verified that this process is functional.”

  “So what’s the problem, then?” said Baas.

  “Because, cowboy … oh, you explain, beautiful,” said Reichs, turning to Laetitia.

  Baas turned to Patton and silently mouthed, “Cowboy?”

  “We wish to explain that at least three of these four tanks must be refilled with deuterium—the other isotope required—in order to get to Aura,” she said.

  “And you plan to build a processing plant on Hawaii to make it, right?” said Aulani.

  “That is correct,” said Laetitia.

  “And, ultimately, that’s why we need the fabricators working up here,” I said. “The shuttles can make enough sorties to transport the deuterium here, bring some of the supplies and equipment we need and of course, the colonists. But if the Juno’s fabricators aren’t working it means shipping raw materials to Hawaii, then finished parts and gear back up to orbit. We’ll need to adjust Juno’s orbit as low as we can, but go too low and atmospheric drag will start degrading the orbit. That’s a very bad thing.”

  “So how many colonists you think you’re taking with you?” said Patton, warily.

  “As many as want to serve under me!” said Reichs, followed by his own raucous laugh.

  The three councilors looked at him, stunned by his answer. They seemed to be deciding whether he was just joking or meant it or truly was as crazy as he looked.

  I waved my hand dismissively and said, “It can only ever be a personal choice—there’s no other way. And when we go, yes, some will lead and some will follow. I suggest we base that on merit,” I said.

  “Y’all heard that—he knows I’ll lead by merit—ain’t that right, peasant?”

  “Sure,” I said, humoring him.

  Whoever leads, it won’t be you, Reichs, I thought.

  Baas and Aulani nodded and gave words of support. Patton looked thoughtful and said nothing.

  “The ship’s designed to take over twelve thousand if we can get all the stasis pods working. It could well be fewer, though,” I said.

  “Let’s hope so,” said Patton, gruffly.

  “Look, if people don’t want to come, they don’t have to,” I said. “Hell, I don’t know if I’ll be going myself.”

  And I didn’t. For me, it was an almost impossible choice. Stay on Hawaii with mom and Nikki and the promise of eternal life, or fulfill the dream to colonize Aura, resurrecting civilization in the only place it could flourish again.

  We spent the rest of the day on the Juno Ark, some of which we spent stocking the shuttle with food and medicines. I had to come clean about the weapons in the cargo hold and we offloaded them to make space. After refueling the shuttle, we departed with Reichs on board. No doubt, he felt secure with his android bodyguard sitting next to him. Her loyalty to the detestable murder suspect and mutineer was unquestionable. Now we had to work the plan to pry them apart and take her out of play. Only then could we bring him to face justice in the Forever World.

  11

  The shuttle landed outside the dome city entrance after dark in the chilly evening air of Oahu. As we descended the steps, it was clear that the timing hadn’t stopped the crowd of locals gathering once again. After being so isolated for so long, the stares and questions seemed to take Reichs aback. Without Laetitia I think he would’ve ran straight back into the shuttle.

  I could’ve sworn I heard him mutter the words, “Great unwashed,” while entering the city.

  A man of the people he was not.

  The best place for him was the seclusion of the guesthouse, to which we walked briskly and directly. He’d agreed to come as part of discussions on Project Phoenix. It was his pet project, but if I had anything to do with, he wouldn’t be around to see it through. Oliver the innkeeper found Reichs and Laetitia a double room and soon after, they disappeared for the night. As I entered my own room—tired after a long day in orbit—I wondered whether Laetitia would sneak off to the shuttle again. She’d been recharging aplenty inside the power grids today, so she might not need to tonight.

  I took a shower and relaxed while thinking through the plan for tomorrow. Half an hour after laying on the bed, the knock at the door came. It was Patton as expected. I ushered him in. He’d come to discuss tomorrow, the day we planned to arrest Reichs. The key was splitting him from Laetitia and to do that Patton, Baas and Aulani would need to kowtow to his sense of self-importance. At the same time, I needed to leverage the trust that I’d built with Laetitia to take her offline. I had no doubt she was sentient and had emotion. So was it betrayal? Yeah, I guess so, but only in the same way an undercover cop betrays a target. She may not have started off a target, but as soon as Reichs became a suspect she became one, too. Regardless of her sen
tience, Patton and Rawlings—the Forever World FBI agent—weren’t interested in punishing Laetitia. Her free will was bound by her programming and as such, Reichs carried the can. Besides, if our plan worked, she’d be a useful and loyal android and help Project Phoenix immeasurably. If our plan worked.

  We finalized the details and Patton went to leave.

  We shook hands and I repeated the most important element of tomorrow’s takedown.

  “Kale, remember—they’ll most likely be in radio contact. Make sure your people don’t tip him off before I’ve left Kauai. We get this wrong and she’ll be coming back here to get him. And after that anything could happen—none of it good.”

  “Don’t worry; I’ve got my best people on it. Have a good night, Dan.”

  “You too.”

  I’d developed a respect for the man’s professionalism, but his comments earlier on the Juno worried me. There were clouds on the horizon over the Juno’s resources as well as those of Hawaii itself. If people left for Aura in the years to come, it would decimate the headcount and break relationship ties forever. But there was no other way. It was a choice for every individual. Patton was a guy with his feet firmly on planet Earth. He loved what they’d build at Koko Crater and I could understand his pride. I pushed away future challenges and turned off the light. Tomorrow was the day of days in the saga of Reichs’s criminal wrongdoings. If I had my way, it’d be his last day of freedom.

  ***

  We’d arrived at the guesthouse breakfast table at 6:30 a.m. and Oliver got to it and started making our meal. Two plates for the humans, nothing for the android. I stared at Reichs in uncontained amusement—he’d actually bothered to have a shower and put on the dark pants and light shirt they’d left for him. He still looked like a raggedy old bum, but the stench had gone and so had his filthy clothes. Breakfast would be all the more enjoyable for it.