by J. Benjamin
“Good question.” Starscraper snapped his fingers. A rectangle of white light appeared next to him, resembling an open door. “This completes your training. When you step through this port, the nanites will deactivate, and you will slowly return to consciousness. Any questions?”
“I hope we never see each other ever again,” Kiara said.
“Even if we did, I wouldn’t remember you,” Starscraper replied.
Kiara stepped into the light and disappeared.
15
December 6, 2081
“You’re a putz! You know that? A complete and total putz,” John Alvarez angrily shouted to Dev Ivanov through his headset. “If your mother—”
“My mother is dead,” Dev said. “She’s been dead for a while. I run the business now. Got that?” He and Sook walked side by side as they made their way to docking bay D4. Both carried their own duffel bags and were fully suited up.
“Hmph!” John replied.
“Is that a yes?” Dev asked.
“Yes… asshole,” John replied.
“That’s better. Now get your old ass back to Titan and start reviewing the settlement terms for the union, or stay on the Herschel. I don’t care,” Dev said.
“You still haven’t assuaged the concerns of the shareholders,” John replied.
“We calmed the union,” Dev said. “Took the financial hit, but at least it buys us time while Carlos Montez and his team reassemble the contents of the nano-drive.”
“Again, I think you are putting a lot of misplaced faith in that nano-drive,” John said. “What about GSF?”
“We’ll cross that bridge when we get there,” Dev replied. “Right now, let’s stop the house from burning down. Internal needs first.”
“Easier said than done.”
“John. You’re a lawyer. I’m a businessman and an engineer. Believe me when I tell you that Cosmineral’s entire net worth does not compare to what was on that drive. The world may try to crucify me, but I am the one holding the nails.”
“I’ll get to work on the contracts,” John said. “You may be a putz, but I give you points for being a putz that doesn’t throw in the towel easily. Granted, that’s what makes you a putz. You’re too stupid to know when to quit. I’ll call you if there are any problems with the paperwork.”
“Good.”
“Bye, putz.”
“Is that stupid crank done yet?” Sook asked as they entered Bay D4.
“Rest easy,” Dev said. “He’s gone.”
“Thank the stars! If I had to listen to one more rant from that guy, I was going to space myself in the nearest airlock,” Sook said. “Never met a more miserable sonofabitch in my entire life.” Dev laughed heavily.
They approached the entry for one of the skippers. Within seconds the panel on the right side of the dock scanned Dev’s face, right-hand, and access codes. It turned green, and the port opened. They stepped through and made their way to the cockpit.
“Edie shot Cosmineral in the head. Somehow, by the most inexplicable of miracles, Cosmineral survived the bullet. Just like the rest of those rare souls who have survived a headshot, Cosmineral now needs to train itself to walk, talk, and shit again,” Dev said.
“And she’s dead,” Sook replied.
“Yes, but not without burning down as much of Rome as possible,” Dev said. “Still strange that we weren’t able to locate the debris.”
“Well, the outer edge of the rings moves at eleven miles per second, and that’s just the slow end. The part where Brenner took the skipper was at least fifty, and she was moving at terminal velocity. She had a death wish. No way our crew or any crew would find debris,” Sook said. She dropped her duffle through the door of the central berth behind the cockpit.
“Yes. I do think you’re right,” Dev replied. He turned his attention to the primary console. The fuel levels were full, though the skipper would not need much of it since it came equipped with solar sails and was on the outer perimeter of Saturn’s orbit.
“Orbit body set to Earth. Set zone to Tucson, Arizona, United California. Set port to Cosmineral Earth headquarters,” Dev commanded the console.
Acknowledged Mr. Ivanov, and welcome! A reply message on the console read. Dev pulled a lever and the skipper came unlatched from the docking bay. As it maneuvered away from Herschel’s gravity well, Dev felt himself floating upward for a few moments. However, that quickly ended as the skipper’s own gravity engine came to life.
Dev cranked the engines, and the craft began its gradual acceleration process toward a half-million miles per hour. Though it was in its ascension phase, he could already see Saturn and its rings slowly sliding back behind the cockpit window. Dev moved from the cockpit to the central berth.
The room included a wide-pane view of the universe outside, along with the craft’s right-wing. Sook sat on the edge of the bed, looking out. Dev approached the other side of the bed and sat next to her.
“Nine weeks,” he said. “Then it’ll be time to eat crow and grovel at the feet of our adversaries.”
“You worried?” Sook asked.
“More than I want to be,” Dev replied. “The union really put us in a pickle with that strike of theirs.”
“But you settled the dispute,” Sook said.
“Yeah, by letting them keep the windfalls from the next three fishing expeditions. I bribed them to shut their damn mouths. Financially, I can afford that hit, but the Board will be outraged. This was the first union strike in their twenty-five-year history. Terrible PR for the company, and even if I weather the storm with our shareholders, the bribe will blare like a five-alarm fire for our bigger nightmare.”
“GSF,” Sook replied.
“Bingo,” Dev said. “Especially Adler. Thank the stars Katelyn Lew is running the show because Thomas Adler would ship me to Venus first chance he got and watch me melt to death on the surface. He hates me!”
“Why? What did you do to piss off Adler so much?”
“He’s a law-and-order guy. He thinks Cosmineral has too much power and that we pose an existential threat to GSF’s sovereignty over the solar system. He’s only half-right about that. We can barely keep our own house in order, let alone the broader system,” Dev explained.
“I guess that is expected. We are, by most measures, considered GSF’s top adversary,” Sook said.
“That’s not the only reason,” Dev said. “When he was nominated to be secretary of defense, I tried lobbying member states to vote against his confirmation. I knew he would use his position to rampantly build up GSF’s Space Forces and move more outposts beyond the belt. He badly wants Cosmineral’s territory and to put us out of business.”
“How would he do that? Send a bunch of imaginary warships out here to storm the Herschel and steal the collector ships?”
“No, worse. Alder would just get a bunch of NGOs to send collector ships to different parts of the rings. GSF would get its own operation running and turn the profits into government revenue. Except they would be able to sell ring minerals for far less because they don’t have shareholders.”
“But what about the union?” Sook asked. “GSF gonna’ just find a bunch of noobs to run their fishing expeditions? The job takes three years of training and several certifications.”
“They’ll rip the Ring Miner’s Guild right from under us; offer them better terms. Our revenues will vanish. We’ll be forced to auction off our assets. Cosmineral will be dead,” Dev said. As he spoke, his attention was focused on the vast expanse of stars and nebulae in the space beyond the berth’s windows.
“I think you’re overthinking things,” Sook said. “It’ll take years for GSF to accomplish any one of those ambitious objectives, and in the meantime, we have so many assets at our disposal that they don’t.”
“You might be right, but all it takes is one royal fuckup like the Herschel incident to set off alarm bells in High Command, and before you know it, they’ll be on their high horses and laying claim to the outer pla
nets. That’s why we need to go back to Earth, to stop this situation dead in its tracks before it spirals out of control,” Dev said.
Sook turned to Dev and put her arm around him. She pulled him to yank his attention away from outside and toward her.
“Look at me,” Sook said. “We got nine weeks. You can’t be this weak when you go before the Board of Directors and then GSF. Grow a spine!”
“Easy for you to say,” Dev said. “You are the one who’s actually seen combat. I’m just a shady businessman with a crumbling empire.” Before he could say another word, Sook pulled his face toward hers to force a kiss. Dev seemed taken aback but after a few seconds reciprocated. The impromptu romance and love-making lasted all of two minutes and was halted as Dev and Sook received simultaneous alerts on their smart lenses.
“Dammit!” Sook groaned. “It’s Carlos. Should we answer it?”
“Sure, but let’s get up from the bed and face away, so this looks more professional,” Dev replied. They got off the bed and picked up the call.
“Dev, Sook, sorry to bother you both,” the chief science officer said.
“Carlos, I told you only to contact us if it is absolutely important. Please tell me some good news,” Dev said.
“The second report is out!” Carlos said.
16
October 5, 2076 - Kennedy, Wolf 482 Star System
Pelican #882 maintained its geosynchronous orbital vector. There were no standing orders except to observe and record. A hundred miles east and west, bots #881 and #883 continued along similar vectors.
HiveAI {2076-10-05 12:01}: break(“Pelican882”)
HiveAI {2076-10-05 12:01}: activate(“Pelican882”)
HiveAI {2076-10-05 12:01}: “Pelican #882. You have been activated.” —
Pelican #882 immediately ceased idle mode and awaited orders from the hive-mind AI that controlled the hundreds of bots around Kennedy’s orbit.
Pelican882 {2076-10-05 12:02}: send response
Pelican882 {2076-10-05 12:02}: “Pelican #882 - Status: Awaiting orders.”
HiveAI {2076-10-05 12:02}: surface-deploy(“Pelican882”, landing, gentle)
HiveAI {2076-10-05 12:02}: “Pelican #882. Orbit vector cancelled. Initiate deployment protocols.
Though built to be lightweight and travel a fraction of the speed of light, the bots were surprisingly dexterous. Each came equipped with mini-thrusters to handle movement at non-radical speed. Pelican #882 had a new mission. Using its mini ion thrusters, it prepared to de-orbit and make a break for the surface. With each passing minute, the white and turquoise planet grew wider. It kept growing until it engulfed the view in every direction.
After several minutes, Pelican #882 shut off the ion thrusters. Gravity was doing all the work now. Pelican #882 prepared for the next phase, atmospheric insertion. Thankfully, this did not require much preparation. The Pelicans were coated in an ultra-thin nano-material that could absorb the fiery burn caused by entering a planet’s atmosphere.
It didn’t take long before Pelican #882 was engulfed in fire. Having temporarily powered down all internal systems, it continued carving into Kennedy’s upper atmosphere. Having survived the blasts of the Hawking laser, the cold dead vacuum of interstellar travel, the rapid slowdown, the Pelican now found itself at the mercy of an atmosphere in which even Earth’s most prestigious engineers could not adequately test for. No wind tunnel nor stress test could prepare for the variables of the gravity, chemical compounds, air pressure, and microbial invaders on this unfamiliar, faraway planet.
After several minutes, the burning slowed, and it became apparent that 882 had survived the entry.
Pelican882 {2076-10-05 12:17}: “Pelican #882 - Status: Atmospheric entry complete. Initiating landing phase.”
HiveAI {2076-10-05 12:17}: “Acknowledged, Pelican #882. Initiate soft landing protocols.”
Kennedy’s bright white sky now filled the horizon. Pelican #882’s built-in sensors were programmed to absorb as much data as possible during the descent. Meanwhile, the bot redeployed its solar sail. While the original engineers designed the Pelican solar sails for deep space, they had the foresight to anticipate that one day, those bots may land on an alien planet.
An unexpected benefit of the Pelican solar sail was its ability to double as a parachute for when the Pelicans arrived at their destination. The sails didn’t have the durability to guarantee a soft landing, but they would slow down the Pelican to such a speed where it could observe as much information as possible during descent.
The Pelican’s velocity slowed precipitously.
Pelican882 {2076-10-05 12:19}: “Bot log: Atmosphere of planet is 75% nitrogen, 23% oxygen, 1% argon, 0.5% carbon dioxide. Sky is colorless and white.”
As Pelican #882 descended, it continued submitting a stream of information to the HiveAI database. It took note of the lack of biodiversity on the visible surface. The air temperatures were similar to that of Antarctica. The atmosphere of the planet was similar to Earth’s.
Throughout the panoramic span of the Pelican’s visual sensors, vast fields of slimy blue material poured over the surface like a fungus. From the first report and the scans from several other Pelicans, it had already been determined that the highly potent blue substance was an organism with advanced photosynthetic capabilities. That is, it was a biological solar panel. The sunlight absorbed by the photosynthetic bacteria flowed below the surface of the planet, presumably to feed whatever lived beneath the ice.
The Pelican zoomed its focus on a stretch of land beneath. It was defined by a different hue of blue liquid water. The water disconnected two giant ice sheets that were likely a single formation at one point. The dark blue lines cut into the sheets like varicose veins on an aged leg. To a human eye, the cracks of liquid appearing on the surface could conjure images of Puget Sound or the Norwegian coast. As the bot processed the visuals, the AI reacted accordingly.
HiveAI {2076-10-05 12:20}: “Pelican #882. You have new orders. Initiate aquatic impact protocols. Prepare for a subsurface event at coordinates 48 N, -32 W…”
The Pelican would no longer be landing on the ice sheets. Instead, it would make a suicide plunge into the depths of Kennedy’s planetary ocean. In the best-case scenario, it would survive nearly three minutes underwater before its systems became irreparably waterlogged. Otherwise, the water impact would shatter its hull immediately. Of course, the same fate was ensured for an ice impact. Pelican #882 changed its trajectory.
The cracks in the ice grew as the bot descended closer to the surface. It was clear that the cracks varied in width from five to twenty miles wide.
Pelican882 {2076-10-05 12:22}: “Approaching subsurface opening.” The bot was now making a final descent. As it looked below, there was something underneath the water. It was growing bigger.
Pelican882 {2076-10-05 12:22}: “Movement detected in target zone. Unable to get a visual. Approaching vector.”
With a few hundred feet between the bot at the surface, a series of lights underneath the water became visible. It was hard to tell whether they were bioluminescent or an artificial creation. The surface of the water bubbled right at the spot where the Pelican was preparing for impact.
The Pelican continued recording when suddenly, the mystery object burst through the water. Several dozen bright, thin appendages flew out and formed a tight grip on Pelican #882. In its final seconds, the bot managed to only get a quick glimpse of the source. It was a black, slimy organism with a series of noodle-like limbs that resembled fiberoptic cables. The Pelican was abruptly incapacitated.
HiveAI {2062-10-05 12:23}: “Update: Pelican #882 - TERMINATED!”
17
December 6, 2081 - Guion Bluford Spaceport, Athletic Center
Kiara needed a break after her self-described ‘mind-fuck’ of a training exercise. For her, there was no better way to accomplish that than by knocking out famous celebrities and historical figures in a boxing fight. However, since such individuals were either d
ead or thousands of miles away from Alaska, she did the next best thing. Wearing gym clothes and donning two black punching gloves, she fought a robot fighter made to resemble such famous individuals via holographic projection.
“You’re a failure!” The robot fighter boasted. Its image was that of an all-but-forgotten authoritarian leader.
“Shut up,” Kiara said as she flung her left fist at its face. The robot punched back, but Kiara successfully blocked it with her right fist.
“You fight like my predecessor, who I had locked up!” it taunted.
“Eat shit,” Kiara commanded. This time she went for a double-punch, one hit to the face and another to the torso. However, she missed the robot’s left fist, which landed on her right cheek. Kiara fell to the ground.
“Sonofabitch!” she shouted. She immediately pulled herself off the ground and got back into her defensive posture.
“I am the greatest. My fighting is like my approval ratings, one-hundred percent,” the robot said.
“You’re a bag of gears,” Kiara said.
“Nothing like the gears of the workforce of my great empire,” said the robot. It went for a face punch with its right fist. Kiara successfully dodged it and hit back. This time the robot flinched back a few inches.
Without ceding any further ground to the robot, she hit it in the face before it could recover from the previous hit. This time, the robot flew back several feet. Its head hit the ground. The hologram projection disappeared, and another voice, a female voice, emanated from the robot.
“Congratulations, Kiara. You defeated your opponent on extra-hard difficulty. Please come back soon,” it said. Kiara’s attention was quickly diverted by clapping from the back of the room. She turned to see the defense secretary of the Global Space Federation applauding her.
“Bravo, Dr. Lacroix,” Thomas said. “If the scientist career doesn’t work out for you, I hear we have a few openings for secret agents.”
