“Okay, okay. Hang on.”
She watched him on the wall-screen (video calling was one of its several other functions). He fumbled with his cell to load the lottery app.
She put her hand to her chest and felt her pounding heart. Could she convince him to change his mind and spend his remaining days with her? She would certainly try.
“Well?” she asked impatiently.
“Sorry, honey, I didn’t get picked.”
Her eyes closed and a sigh escaped her lips as the slimmest of chances she’d been hanging onto slipped away. The certainty of never seeing her father again hit hard.
“Oh, Dad. I’m so sorry.”
“Don’t be. I would have given my spot to Martin down the street, anyway. That way you guys could finally end up together.” He gave the smallest wink and a smile.
“It’s the end of the world and you’re still not going to let that go are you?”
“Maybe he won on his own. Crazier things have happened. Like an alien fleet on its way to kill us all.”
“No need to be morbid on me, Dad.”
“Any updates on that?”
“Last I heard they were nearing Pluto’s orbit.”
“Still no contact?”
“Not yet. Not for lack of trying. Liam said they’ve been sending every form of communication possible, but no response from the ships.”
“Strange, don’t you think?”
“A little. Assuming they’ve been studying us from afar, one would think they’d have picked up on some of our communication techniques and would’ve been ready to respond.”
“I was thinking the same thing.”
A flashing red light began blinking in the bottom left corner of the screen. Video calls had to be kept short on the ship to minimize bandwidth use, and just then thousands of others on board would be calling friends and family to ask them if by chance they’d been lucky in the lottery. The red light indicated she had thirty seconds left before the call would be disconnected.
“Listen, Dad, I have to go. They’re restricting our usage on this thing to keep calls quick.”
“Okay, we can talk again soon. I’m so proud of you, Ann.”
“I love you.” She put her palm up close to the camera. Her father did the same on his end.
“I love you, too. Bye, sweetie.”
Time expired as she ended the call. The view of Earth replaced her father’s image filling the screen.
A swirl of emotions swam inside her. Sadness that she would never see her father again in person. Relief that she at last knew for certain his fate. Guilt that she was leaving him behind.
That evening, after skipping lunch while she processed her thoughts about her father, Ann was walking through one of the endless mazes of tunnels on her way to her designated cafeteria. It was then that she made up her mind—she did not like space. It wasn’t the knowledge of a vacuum death trap on the other side of the centimeters thick walls that made her feel this way. She hated all the metal and industrialization. The only green was found in the gardens where the fresh food grew. White and stainless steel made up the rest of the interior’s sleek design.
She was a botanist and missed her plants. She could visit the gardens on occasion, but that wasn’t her job. Her real work wouldn’t begin until they arrived at Proxima. Until then she’d be working in her lab making sure her equipment remained functional.
The majority of the crew on her level were straight from Dallas and on similar eating schedules so the cafeteria that sat a thousand people was mostly full when she arrived. She joined the que of people in line for their food.
The cafeteria featured the same shiny white and steel metal throughout. Several dozen long tables filled the space. Monitors lined the walls displaying views of Earth, television shows, movies, and data about the ship like velocity and height of orbit.
After collecting her tray of soy nuggets, green beans, and mashed potatoes, she was able to find an empty seat near the middle of the cafeteria. She unrolled her napkin with the silverware tucked inside and was about to take her first bite when she noticed a man coming her way. He was short, though taller than herself by a couple of inches, and not incredibly built. He had medium-length hair that was parted over to the side and the beginning stubble of a beard.
“Hi!” he said, excited for someone to talk to.
“Hello,” she replied.
“I’m Ray. I’m an archaeologist.”
“Hi, Ray. I’m Ann. Botanist.”
“May I join you?”
“Sure, why not.”
“Great! So, it looks like neither of us have anything to do.”
“What do you mean?”
“Well, you’re a botanist. There’s no plants to study up here. I’m an archaeologist. There’s nothing to dig up here. So I guess we just get to hang out and wait for the Big Sleep.” He unwrapped his tray and examined his food, his mouth curled in disgust. “I was going to say that at least the food is good, but, um, apparently not. Have you smelled this?”
“Don’t you have a lab? Or is it already set up?” she asked, ignoring the slight at the food.
“Oh yeah, I got one. I’ll pay it a visit after I eat this muck. Do you call this eating? I’ll take a look at my stuff and make sure it’s all properly installed and working and what-not, but then I doubt I’ll ever turn any of it on again.”
“Why do you say that?”
“Because Proxima is dead. There’s no life there and there never was. I’ll have nothing to study and neither will you.”
“You sound sure of that,” she pointed out.
“Proxima b orbits Proxima Centauri. It’s, what, four and a half light years away? Closest star to us outside of our solar system. Those aliens out there are coming here. To our system. They’re coming here because there wasn’t anything with life closer to them. The direction they’re coming from suggests they would have gone past Proxima.”
“What if they’re from Proxima?”
“I don’t think so. In all the years we spent listening to space, searching for signals, we would have undoubtedly spent a sizable amount of time listening in that direction. We discovered nothing after over a hundred years.”
“Well, I guess you have it all figured out, Ray. So you think this is a fool’s errand then?”
“Oh no, not really. I’m hoping that the planet will be capable of supporting life, it just doesn’t have any on it currently. And if we can’t settle on the surface then I suppose we just go back to sleep and onto the next one.”
“Aren’t you the optimist?”
He smiled back as she took a bite of her food and spat it out.
“You’re right, this is muck.”
“Cheers,” he said. He lifted his own fork into his mouth and nearly gagged.
After the meal, they ended up with a small group of people convening in a common area. Ann and Ray shared a sofa; accompanying them was a Middle Eastern woman named Salena Boulus who sat on a chair across from them, and sitting at a small table a few feet away were Jules Cantor, a French biologist, and Zoe Harris, an Australian astronomer.
Salena was twenty-six years old from the United Arab Emirates and came from an exceptionally wealthy family. Generations ago they made a fortune in the oil business that later doubled when they transitioned into clean energy. She was the only child born to the Boulus family. Although rumors circulated that her vast wealth was the only reason she was onboard the ship, she didn’t mind. The truth remained that she was here because she possessed wealth of a different kind. She knew everything there was to know about clean energy, which powered the ship. All electricity was produced through a large water tank four levels deep centrally located within the ship. Through a process that only she and a select few truly understood, the water flowed through a complex series of turbines that converted the flow to electricity more powerful than any kind of turbines that came before. This was why she was head of the energy department on the ship and would be leading the team to e
stablish clean energy sources on the surface of Proxima.
Jules and Zoe were both originally assigned to STS ships six and seven respectively, but upon their cancellations when the alien fleet was spotted, they were deemed important enough to be reassigned and ended up here on The Christensen. Jules looked to be in his upper-forties and Zoe closer to Ann’s age, somewhere in her mid-thirties.
“Canberra fell apart,” Zoe said. “When the existence of the alien ships went public and our ship’s construction was stopped, the people went mad. Looting, riots, killing. I watched my city fall apart.”
“Oui. Paris suffered the same. It was a terrible time,” Jules said.
“We only saw snippets of riots on the news back in the States,” Salena said.
“I think they had bigger fish to fry. Aliens exist and all that,” Ray began. “When the world is ending, no time to talk about the woes of individual cities.”
“I had to be evacuated out of Canberra. They told me to get to the STS campus immediately. I lived five kilometers away. It was the furthest five kilometers of my life.” Zoe’s eyes found the floor and seemed to gloss over. She took a breath and continued. “I got in my car and only made it a block or two before a group of men blocked the road. Before I knew it, I was surrounded. They rocked my car back and forth—screaming nonsense. They were all clearly on something.
“I had to keep going. I honked, but they did nothing. I tapped the accelerator and that just made them angrier. I had to floor it. There was a...bump. I couldn’t look back. I just couldn’t.
“I saw more violence on my way. People were setting things on fire. A mass of people carrying out stuff from a store. A few already laid dead outside. Carnage I’ll never forget.”
Ann listened quietly. If things had been that bad in places around the world when the alien announcement went out, what were things like down there now after the lottery? She hadn’t asked if anyone around her knew anything and she hadn’t tried to connect with Liam yet. Was he safe?
Jules recounted a similar story of his escape out of Paris. Odd that stories like this were barely touched upon in American media. She remembered hearing bits and pieces of stories from other parts of the world, but the majority of coverage was discussion of the alien fleet. Listening to these stories in person was much more powerful than hearing pundits read from a teleprompter behind a desk. These two people were truly affected by what they saw and experienced. But they had an escape. They experienced the terror and had the ability to leave it behind. Most wouldn’t be so lucky.
While the others talked about Paris, she texted Liam.
What’s the news? How’s the country handling the lottery results?
“How the hell do I answer that?” Liam asked himself. He sat in his office watching the newscasts on the television mounted to the wall opposite his desk. The news coverage captivated him throughout the day.
When the lottery results pushed out at noon, he was surprised by the quiet on the streets. One, then two hours went by with no reports from the media about rioting. It wasn’t until around 2:30 that afternoon when he got the call that hundreds of people were marching on the STS campus’ gates.
He pulled up the live security feed and sure enough a throng of people gathered outside the fences. The newly replaced security team was holding the chaotic crowd in check for now.
After careful consideration and counsel from Secretary Blake and President Foster, he decided to keep Percy on as the head of security. He called him up on the screen he was using to view the live feed. Moments later, Percy’s face appeared in the corner looking understandably flustered.
“It’s a shit show,” Percy said.
“I can see that. What’s being done?”
“Our new security measures are doing their job. We are safe inside the perimeter. I just hope you weren’t planning on going home tonight.”
“What’s the word outside the campus?”
“Oh, you know, your run of the mill civilization collapse. Nothing we haven’t seen before elsewhere.”
“Media is being quiet.”
“Give them a minute. They’ll catch up.”
“I’m sure you’re right. Keep holding down the fort out there.”
“Copy that, Liam.”
Percy’s face disappeared off the screen. He watched as more and more people arrived outside the fences. Confident they weren’t getting through he turned his attention back to the news. At last reports began to air. Liam settled in and watched for an hour. Cities all over the country were experiencing a variety of disorders. The bigger cities combated a string of looting, while the smaller towns just had protests with signs. He was so lost in the coverage he nearly forgot to return Ann’s text.
Liam: I’m sorry for the late response. It’s happening like we predicted. How are things with you?
Ann: Settling in for bed. We finally started seeing the newscasts up here. Please get to me safely.
Liam: The campus is locked down tight. Don’t worry about me. I’ll be with you in just a few months.
Ann: I can’t wait. Goodnight, I love you.
Liam: I love you, too.
Chapter 10
THE FOLLOWING MONTHS could only be described as a sleepless, insane blur. The rioting and protesting eventually died down to a more reasonable level, but not without scores of lives lost and businesses destroyed. The days after the lottery were the worst. Local police were quickly overwhelmed. Foster declared martial law and mayhem ruled. Like Liam and Percy predicted, the STS security team had to fire and, unfortunately, kill violent aggressive civilians trying to storm the campus. Liam didn’t go home for the first month. When he did, he packed up everything he wanted to bring with him, and left his house behind for good knowing he would never return.
Work continued at an incredible pace at campuses around the globe. In fact, The Hawking was the last ship still launching its pieces to be assembled. The final launch was one day away which was good because the three alien ships had just passed the orbit of Mars. There had been countless communication attempts, but the alien fleet remained stubbornly dark.
As the fleet grew closer, satellites captured high definition images. Each ship measured just over a mile long and were propelled by four thrusters at the rear of the ships that used some kind of accelerant nobody on Earth was able to identify. The ships themselves were curvy, lacking a distinct straight line anywhere on their exterior design. Thousands of windows dotted the ships’ surfaces appearing black with no light shining through. No light or sound emitted from the ships since they entered the solar system. The theory that these were ghost ships gained more traction as time went on.
The STS commission couldn’t afford to adhere to that theory. Each of the five STS ships successfully added defense systems to their hulls. Meanwhile, world leaders agreed to launch nuclear missiles at the alien fleet if they passed within the moon’s orbit while still not answering their calls for communication. At the turn of the century, the majority of nuclear weapons were decommissioned. Only the United States and Russia kept a few on hand. In total, there were twenty nukes left on the planet and all of them would be aimed at the fleet once they crossed the moon’s orbit.
Civilian lottery winners had begun their ascent at other sites in Dallas, Egypt, and Brazil. As predicted, there were several instances with disgruntled members of the public. Fortunately, STS security, local law enforcement, and the militaries were able to keep everyone safe. As a precaution, Liam instructed the last of The Hawking lottery winners to begin making their way to the campus. Makeshift living centers were constructed throughout the site. People were living in tents and sleeping on cots. Food was rationed and under strict control, but at least the people were secure. After the next day’s launch, it would be time for their ascent.
Many of The Hawking’s crew were already in space since the majority of the ship had finished assembly. Captain Jameson led his bridge crew while the ship was docked in the STS assembly station. The station was a marv
el to behold. At the center was its main circular structure where people lived and worked. Stretching out from there like spider legs were three docking ports that supported one ship each. The ships were securely latched by a series of steel legs that attached to the hull so they could be assembled safely and allow for food and supplies to enter. STS crews dubbed it simply as The Hub.
Currently The Hawking, The Linwood, and The Newton were docked at The Hub. The latter two ships were restocking one final time for food, water, and supplies. Z48 shuttles flew back and forth from The Hub to the various STS stocking centers on the planet’s surface. There seemed to be a heavy sense of urgency in the air as everyone was eager to begin their journey to Proxima and escape whatever fate the alien ships were bringing with them.
“Good evening, Mr. Donovan,” Jameson said from the bridge. In front of him was a monitor featuring Liam who video called directly to the captain’s workstation.
“Captain Jameson. How are you?”
“Well enough. We are nearly ready to be underway.”
“I’m sure. I wanted to check in one final time. I’ll be on a Z48 tomorrow afternoon following the last assembly launch. Civilians will be following over the next two days.”
“We will be departing on time. Ninety-six hours. The last of the assembly won’t take long. A day or two maximum. We are receiving the last of our food and supply stock as I speak so we’ll be fully ready when the civilians arrive.”
“Check list?” Liam was referring to the daily equipment and weaponry check.
“All systems functional. We did three full checks today alone. Our Z56 fleet also completed two flight rotations.”
“Excellent. Captain, we’re cutting it close, but we did it. I couldn’t be prouder of you and your crew.”
“And we couldn’t have done it without you on the ground. Thank you, sir.”
“No, thank you, Captain. I have to go. I still have a lot to do. I will see you tomorrow on the bridge. I should be at The Hub at around 13:00.”
“I look forward to it.”
The two men saluted each other and the call ended.
Proxima Page 9
