A Spacetime Tale

by J. Benjamin

  “The good news is that we already have three candidates in mind,” Katelyn said, looking at Kiara.

  “Who?” Kiara asked.

  “Well, Captain Ashford would lead the mission,” Katelyn replied. “We believe that given his exemplary leadership at managing the humanitarian crisis in Florida, that he is the best-positioned for this unprecedented undertaking. You could say that the captain is well-trained for unfamiliar situations. That’s important when someone is going into a mission with no precedence.”

  “We will also need two of our best exobiologists for the scientific aspects of the mission,” Thomas said. “That’s where you and Dr. Esposito come in.”

  “If you are interested,” Katelyn replied. “The mission will be top secret, but you will be more than adequately compensated. About half a million credits if I’m not mistaken. We will train you. You’ll even get to stay in the executive suites at Space Station Sagan in the weeks leading up to the mission.”

  “So, Dr. Lacroix,” Thomas said. “What do you say? Ready to make history with the Global Space Federation? Ready to be remembered with Armstrong, Aldrin, Shepard, and Zel?”

  Kiara paused and considered the weight of what was being asked.

  “Hell yes, I’m in!” As if she was going to say no to a half million credits. “But can you repeat all of that? Starting with the part about the wormholes?”

  6

  William Herschel Station

  For the past three days, Dev Ivanov got a total of five hours of sleep. His paranoia manifested in increasingly erratic behavior and isolation from the rest of his company and employees, save for Sook. She sat opposite him at a metal table in a safe room near the command bridge. It was called the safe room because no communications could be submitted from inside.

  “Where is he?” Dev asked.

  “His skipper just docked at E2,” Sook replied. “He should be here shortly. Again, Dev, are you sure about this guy?”

  “Trust me, Sook,” Dev said.

  “But he’s a hundred years old and practically in retirement.”

  “Sook, John Alvarez has been the family lawyer for nearly seventy years,” Dev said. “That’s long before I was even alive. He’s been representing my mom since she was landing reusable booster rockets on barges off the coast of Cape Canaveral. Granted, that was before Cape Canaveral itself was under several feet of water.”

  “He’s so old, he was alive for the first space shuttles. Remember? The ones that blew up all the time? He probably listens to music on one of those revolving cylinders with the pins.”

  “Sook, he was there with my mom during the Karachi Nuclear Crisis. He was present at the Global Space Federation inaugural conference. He was even there at the christening of the Sagan. There is no human being alive who has a better understanding of interplanetary law, as well as the governments that drafted them. This guy’s entire life was defined in moments of crisis. Even at a hundred years old, his mind is whip-fast. Lay off it. Okay?”

  “Yeah, but you forget one thing,” Sook said. “He’s a complete and total asshole.”

  Somebody knocked on the door to the room.

  “Come in,” Dev said. The door opened. An elderly man in a levitating chair proceeded into the room.

  “Did somebody just call me a complete and total asshole? That’s the nicest compliment I’ve ever heard,” the elderly man said. “Might want to get this so-called safe room checked out. Not that safe. Hi, I’m John Alvarez, attorney-at-law for the Saturnian stations, Jovian stations, and pretty much any human colony that is a hundred miles above Earth.”

  “Sook Nguyen,” she said, clearly embarrassed.

  “Yeah, I remember you,” John said. “You’re the one that held up my paperwork when I first applied for retirement in the Huygens’ Landing Bubble.”

  “You weren’t exactly in peak physical shape to live in Titan’s low gravity.”

  “John, can we get down to business?” Dev asked.

  “Shut the fuck up, you ungrateful colostomy bag,” John said. “Your mother would kick your ass if she were still here. Your mother! A pioneer! And you? You took your mom’s glorious empire and burned it like a brown paper bag of shit on the front steps of the high school bully who stuck you on the flag pole. You must have been born on a highway because that’s where most fuckups happen!”

  “Are you done yet?” Dev asked.

  “Hell no,” John said. “I’m just getting to the fun part: coercing miner-guild escorts to abandon their mission in direct violation of the Ceres Act of 2058, failure to disclose esoteric technology, hiring mercenaries without background checks, possession of illegal weapons, oh and not to mention the four dead bodies stacked up in your morgue.”

  “We weren’t the ones that killed them,” Dev said.

  “No,” John replied. “You simply coerced them into dangerous situations for which they weren’t trained and they died as a result, also known as manslaughter.”

  “Mr. Alvarez,” Sook said. “Let’s assume you’re right and these charges stick. How is GSF going to enforce it? We are 746 million miles away from Earth. The nearest GSF outpost is at Mars, and they are definitely ill-equipped to carry out a raid on the Herschel.”

  “Jesus, Dev. I didn’t think there could be anyone dumber than you, but you found them and made them your CTO,” John said. “Bravo.”

  “Hey! I resent that,” Sook said.

  “At this very moment, the Ring Miners’ Guild is voting on a resolution to promptly cease operations, indefinitely. It is expected to pass unanimously,” John said.

  “That’s impossible,” Dev said. “We are their lifeblood. Without us, they’re a union of unemployed contractors. They won’t be able to feed their families. They’ll starve to death.”

  “Except the union already has the blessings of your three largest shareholders. Once this resolution passes, the Board of Directors will be next, and they will remove your ass as chairman. Lest you forget, you do not have majority ownership of the company. From there, they’ll send an entire fleet to seize control of the Herschel, remove you, and then take you back to Earth-space.

  “Cosmineral will suffer a huge financial hit, but the company will collapse if the Board does not expel you. All of this before GSF gets involved, and you can fully expect that the attorney general will throw the book at you. They will make an example out of you both to show the outer colonies that the GSF is still calling the shots, whether it is on Earth or a billion miles away from Earth.”

  “You’re… you’re not serious,” Dev said, “are you?”

  “I’m your lawyer Dev,” John said. “I tell it like it is. Right now, you are in a world of trouble.”

  “Dev, this is nonsense,” Sook said. “You listen here, you old fuck. Dev pulled a lot of strings to get you that prime, lakefront view in the Huygens Landing bubble. Don’t think we don’t know about all the money laundering and illegal shit going on down there. Dev could resign as chairman tomorrow, and Titan will have no choice but to grant us asylum because we keep tabs on what they’ve been trafficking: prostitution, black market merchandise, illegal gambling.”

  “As your lawyer, I would strongly advise against that,” John said. “Even if you weaseled your way off this station and out of this company, what good would that do? They’d still send a fleet to Titan. You’d have to move elsewhere. The colonies would turn their backs on you, and you’d be fugitives for the rest of your lives. Neither of you would be able to return to Earth ever again. You will die isolated in space. You really want that?”

  Dev buried his head in his hands. He felt as if the walls were closing in. A wave of defeat hit him like a tsunami as he started to realize just how much trouble he actually faced.

  “What are our legal options?” Dev asked.

  “Resign immediately,” John said. “Take a skipper to Space Station Sagan. From there, you will surrender yourself to GSF custody and plead guilty to all of the charges except manslaughter. It’s not right that
you be held accountable for Edie Brenner’s actions. I can work my connections to try and get you a reduced sentence with some of it served under house arrest at your Tucson villa in the Catalina Foothills,… if you’re lucky.”

  “I need to think about it,” Dev said.

  “Take as much time as you need,” John said. “I’ll give you a minute.” John’s levitating chair rotated, and he made his way to the door. Before he could open it, a loud bang from the other side startled him, nearly knocking him from his chair. Dev and Sook also took notice.

  “Sir, sir,” the male voice on the other side said.

  “Carlos,” Dev said. “What the hell, man? Could you have picked a worse time?”

  “Sir,” Carlos said. “Please open up. It’s important.”

  “Should I stay?” John asked.

  “Might as well. What else do I have to lose?” Dev said. “Okay, Carlos. Come in.” The door opened, and Cosmineral’s chief science officer ran inside.

  “Dev,” Carlos said. “The contents of the nano-drive. We found it!”

  “That’s impossible,” Dev said. “The nano-drive was destroyed along with Edie, Simon, and Alex, right when their skipper blew up. They wiped all records of the information clean from Herschel’s database.”

  “Wrong,” Carlos said. “Check out the file I just sent you and Sook.”

  “What’s going on here?” John asked.

  “Shut up,” Sook commanded with all pretense of camaraderie removed.

  Dev and Sook opened the video file on their smart lenses. It was clearly taken from Herschel’s surveillance feeds. In it, an object moved swiftly in the distance. The camera zoomed in to reveal that it was the skipper carrying Edie Brenner, Simon Emmerson, and Alex Harper. The camera then turned to a bright flash of light but paused at that moment.

  “You’re sending me the surveillance footage of something I have seen a hundred times,” Dev said. “How is this useful?

  “Click on the side notes at the paused frame,” Carlos said.

  “Okay,” Dev said. He took a moment to examine it. It was a large file of unintelligible data. “What is this?

  “Moments before the skipper exploded on its approach to Saturn’s rings, its skipper sent out a massive energy pulse,” Carlos said. “Luckily for us, the pulse sent out a flood of data that was received by the Herschel. I have examined its data. I believe it contains the full contents of everything that was on the nano-drive. Now, the data is heavily fragmented and will need reconstructing. Not sure how long that will take. It could be weeks, could be a month or longer. Why the skipper would blast that data out in a massive energy pulse makes absolutely no sense whatsoever.”

  “I see. Thank you, Carlos. You are dismissed,” Dev said. Carlos nodded and left the room. “John, I think the tables just turned in our favor. I am not resigning, and neither is Sook. We’re going to fight these bastards and win.”

  “I don’t get it,” John said. “What the hell is going on? What was that he just showed you just now?”

  “Leverage,” Dev said.

  7

  December 4, 2081 - Ivanov International Hotel

  After lengthy discussions about sentient aliens, Pelicans, and spacetime-sequencing, Kiara’s mind felt like a hamster running at light-speed on a tiny wheel. She needed a drink.

  Following the meeting, Kiara invited Matt Ashford and Leon Esposito along to grab cocktails at the famous Ivanov International on Fifth Street and Mission in San Francisco’s South of Market District. Sixty-five stories above the city, they were in a bustling jazz lounge with panoramic views of the Bay Area.

  Kiara sipped a Manhattan as the other two drank IPAs. They sat on dark leather sofas surrounding a small wooden table. The colors of the walls and floors shifted to match the mood of the music. From their vantage point, they could see through the giant windows to Union Square, Chinatown, the sunken ruins of Fisherman’s Wharf, Angel Island, and the Golden Gate Bridge. If they squinted enough, they could even see the lights from Sally Ride City.

  “Let’s toast to something. Cheers to…” Kiara struggled to find something to toast.

  “Cheers to Dr. Esposito’s brilliant speech,” Matt said.

  “I’ll cheer to that,” Kiara said.

  “You kidding me?” Leon asked. “That was the worst speech of my entire career. Half the crowd booed me over the Pelican program. Then I got canceled, and I barely got a word in.”

  “Exactly. That’s why it was my favorite speech of yours,” Kiara joked.

  “I guess it was for the best,” Leon said. “Cheers.” Their glasses clinked together. “So Matt, tell us about you. How’d a young man like yourself get involved in the GSF Earth Forces?”

  “To answer that, we’d have to rewind to before I was born. My parents were refugees from the former American Midwest. Lucky for them, they got out before it got truly awful. Growing up in a refugee household, I was taught to never take anything for granted.”

  “Is that what prompted you to join the GSF?” Kiara asked.

  “Yup. My parents’ families lost everything during the war. It played a major part in how they raised me. So that’s why I signed up for the GSF Earth Forces. Felt compelled to pay it forward, as they say.”

  “Fascinating,” Leon replied. “It’s always interesting to meet young folks who were born after the war. Your generation really doesn’t take anything for granted. My generation was the opposite. The war really snapped us the hell out of that.”

  “Nobody chooses the circumstances they’re born to,” Matt said. “We just make the best of it.” Matt turned to Kiara. “So, Kiara. What brought you into the GSF?”

  “Well, my story begins much closer to where we are right now,” Kiara said. “United California, born and raised.”

  “Inaugural generation?” Matt asked.

  “Yup! Parents were military folk during the war. My mother was an anti-aircraft sergeant. She got to shoot down Second Rev nutjobs when they flew in from the east. She started her service in Riverside, but after Nevada, Arizona, and New Mexico joined California, she moved further east to fight in the Battle of Albuquerque.”

  “Where my Mom was from,” Matt said. “How bout that?”

  “Yeah! How bout that,” Kiara replied. “Dad was from Zimbabwe but moved here in his teens. Went to Stanford, full ride, and was the youngest in his class. Around the time he graduated, the war already started. At nineteen, he enlisted and was immediately put to work designing weapons for the California resistance.”

  “Anyways, so Heather Zel makes her bombshell discovery of the first alien civilization. Two weeks later, a ceasefire is reached between all the American factions. My parents met on Market Street during the Victory Day celebrations. Funny they call it Victory Day because the celebration lasted a full three weeks, according to them. Long story short, they fell in love right away. Got married. They continued to serve in the newly-formed United California military for several years before they finally settled down and found time to have kids. I was the firstborn.”

  “So, you never considered joining the military?” Leon asked.

  “Not a chance,” Kiara said. “Both my parents have PTSD. Mom watched fellow soldiers get blasted just mere feet from her. Dad never saw combat, but he had a hard time knowing that people were killed by the weapons he helped invent. So here I am, a pacifist and scientist, much to my parents’ relief.

  “As a kid, I’d build experiments in our garage or spend late nights watching the footage of the Poseidon missions. Once it became clear I wasn’t heading in the direction of the armed forces, my parents did all they could to help further my studies of life science and alien biology. So that brought me to GSF’s life sciences division.” Kiara took a swig of her Manhattan.

  “Good choice,” Leon said. “And we’re going to need far more scientists after today.”

  “Cheers to that,” Kiara replied while clinking her glass to Leon’s and then Matt’s. They all took a sip.

  “
Okay, Dr. Esposito. Your turn,” Matt said.

  “Please, call me Leon,” he said. “We’re team members now, after all.”

  “Very well, and you can call me Matt,” Matt replied. “So what’s it like being chief exobiologist? I’ve always wondered. GSF is one of the few governments to elevate a biologist to a Cabinet-level position.”

  “I mean, there’s a lot of the classified stuff I can’t tell you about,” Leon said. “Other than that, it’s not as fun as you’d think. Most of my day is spent approving budgets, reviewing paperwork, and your typical bureaucratic upkeep. Mind you, I do get to travel a lot. So that’s always fun. In just the past six months, I’ve gone to Paris, Nairobi, Seoul, the Sagan, and even the New Tokyo Lunar Base.”

  “The Moon,” Kiara said excitedly while almost spilling her drink. “I’ve never been, but I definitely want to go.”

  “It’s overrated,” Leon said. “Giant bubble that feels like a glorified cruise ship with plenty of pubs, casinos, and massage parlors. It’s just a fancy resort with views of the Earth, and all the dried, space ice cream bars you can eat. Once you realize you’re on a rock that’s far away from home, you might as well take a vacation to Vegas for a fraction of the cost.”

  “I think I’d travel there just for the space food,” Kiara said.

  “You know it’s bullshit, right?” Matt asked. “Nobody in space actually eats that flavored chalk. It’s a huge urban legend that’s been going around since the time of NASA.”