Abel
Page 13
~Robert Peters
Robert sent the message, and immediately washed his hands of the issue. It wasn’t his problem anymore. He was not the right tool for the job, and he was more conscious of that now than ever.
Robert Peters, systems specialist.
He'd wasted his time all morning and most of the afternoon. He was having difficulty concentrating ever since his experience with the mirror. He couldn’t just ignore what he'd learned. Truth of this magnitude couldn’t be forgotten. It had to be accepted, and acceptance took time. Amongst the many things shown to Robert, one fact struck him more than most.
He'd been called many things in his life, but never a coward. Now that he heard the words from his own mouth, he knew them to be true.
“Two minutes,” Amanda said, checking the countdown on her computer.
Robert sighed, looking down at his computer with a complete lack of enthusiasm. He didn’t want to hear what the governor ships had to say. Updates to the fleet like this were intended to boost morale, but they often had the complete opposite effect. There was never good news to report. The convoy’s size was shrinking. Resources were only lessening. Negotiations with the Martians were only deteriorating.
Robert Peters, pessimist.
“Apparently the Martians said something to infuriate the UN,” Amanda continued.
“It’s situations like these that make me thankful to be on a transport ship,” Robert put in.
“You really think it’ll come to conflict?” She sounded worried.
Robert was hit with yet another reality. He was Amanda’s closest friend. His opinion was valued.
“Think about it. There are too many of us for the Martians to support. If there was the slightest chance your world could be destroyed by overpopulating it with refugees, would you take that chance?”
Robert turned to face Amanda, seeing her defeated expression. Robert went on.
“Now consider our position. We've put all of our resources into reaching Mars. We have massively superior combat capability than them. If the Martians tell us we are not welcome, do you think the fleet will be content rotting in orbit?”
Amanda considered this also.
“Bitter, I know,” Robert finished.
Amanda opened her mouth to speak, but was interrupted by a soft beeping. The broadcast was beginning. They both directed their attention to their screens. Amanda leaned forward, paying complete attention. Robert leaned back in his chair.
A face appeared on Robert's screen, that of a UN council member, a woman Robert hadn’t seen before. The woman didn’t look nervous, the poker face of a true politician.
“People of the Terran fleet. Greetings, and congratulations. We are nearing the end of our journey to the planet Mars, and still we remain strong in the face of food shortages, low water reserves, environmental difficulties, and heresy. This is an achievement that must not be understated…”
The woman mumbled on, and Robert quickly became annoyed. Every statement she made was hollow. Her words were riddled with flattery and nationalistic garbage. She spoke of pride and determination, as if everyone in this convoy had an essential role. Robert hated the thought that anyone could be inspired by this.
If there were ever a time to unify the convoy, it was now. Everyone knew why. The politicians called it commitment day. It was the day every Terran in the convoy would honour their commitment to the journey they embarked on. They would pass the point of no return…
Robert shuddered at the thought, only briefly distracted from the woman’s description of the upcoming celebration being held for this momentous occasion. Soon the convoy would pass the point in space where it would be too late to change their course. If, after this point, ships decided they want to change course and join the heretics, they would be too late. Mars will have passed them by.
Robert could picture it now, hundreds of millions of people all cheering, arms thrown over each other, drinking happily as they counted down the seconds like they would for New Year’s Eve.
Robert watched on, becoming still more annoyed. It sounded like the leaders of the Martian Great Gardens weren’t happy about the refugee convoy heading towards them. At the moment, they were only suggesting the Terran fleet stay in orbit. Another grand insult to the UN was the discovery that Mars was also in communication with Schulz and his heretics. Robert himself wasn’t the least bit bothered. It had been clear a long time ago the Martians didn’t have the capacity of telling which fleet was on the right course, not until months after the point of no return.
Robert closed his eyes, allowing the UN woman’s voice to drift into the background. He was glad to have boarded a transport ship, all those years ago. It seemed a trivial choice at the time, with a planet crumbling around him, but now it made all the difference. Instead of crewing a battle ship on the frontlines, he would be allowed to wait in the back.
Incoming message
Robert Peters:
Henry Miller, and some of his people were already down here. They made it very clear there is no mechanical issue whatsoever. The problem is in the computer system. Could you please come and take a second look?