by J. Benjamin
“Mr. Secretary,” Kiara replied. “Surprised to see you here. I thought you would be in Sally Ride City. Especially after Johannesburg.”
“Believe me, this is where I need to be,” Thomas said. “Right now, the safety of the gammanauts is my number one priority.”
“I would say I feel quite safe on this heavily guarded base,” she replied.
“After watching you play Celebrity Fistbot, I’d be more worried for the other guy,” the secretary quipped.
“I take it you’re a fan?” Kiara asked.
“Three-time champion at the gym in Sally Ride. Granted, I think most of my subordinates are terrified of attempting to beat my high score.”
“Practice makes perfect,” Kiara said.
“Yes, indeed it does,” Thomas replied. “Say, mind walking with me for a few minutes?”
“Not at all,” Kiara replied. She followed him out of the court, which, on any other day, could have been used for squash. They made their way down a hallway lined by several similar courts.
“Srivastava says you crushed the training exercise. He was thoroughly impressed with your performance,” Thomas said.
“You really had me for a minute there in that third round,” Kiara replied.
“You figured it out pretty quickly,” Thomas said.
“I know all about synaptic disorientation. Can’t say I was surprised that you threw in a case for that. It’s like a pilot who can’t tell the ocean from the sky sometimes, except in this case the sky is the spacetime sequence and the water is reality,” Kiara said.
“Good analogy,” Thomas said. “And how about that killer squid? Was that tough or what?”
“Is it the general practice of the GSF to kill people in their dreams? Cause that is how real it felt,” she replied. They walked down a glass staircase to the main level of the athletic facility. It was a vast open space with weights, workout machines, a running track, and a swimming area.
“Stage two is brutal,” Thomas said. “You’d be surprised how many people fail it. GSF soldiers with years of real combat experience get crushed to death by the jaws of that thing, or they tap out the second they see a tentacle, but not you. You know why that is? You examined the situation as a scientist and considered the variables. That and it’s a dream state. You don’t have to be a fistbot champion in the real world to be a successful fighter in the virtual one.”
“But it doesn’t hurt,” Kiara replied.
“Right,” Thomas said. “So, there’s another reason I asked to talk with you, and it’s not regarding the training sequence. Have you seen the second report?”
“I read through it this morning,” Kiara said.
“What are your thoughts? Please enlighten me,” Thomas said.
“On the big slimy solar panel things or that thing at the end?” Kiara asked.
“Both,” Thomas replied. “Start with the first.”
“Based on the movements and behavior patterns, there’s no question those blue formations are alive. Yet they exhibit capabilities that go far beyond the biological limits of anything I’ve ever seen,” Kiara said.
“Please explain.”
“On Earth, plants have a photosynthetic efficiency of two-percent at best. Millions of years of evolution at work and all it could come up with are two percent. Compare that to an average solar panel that has forty- to fifty-percent efficiency. After reviewing the details from the first and second reports, it appears these blue slime organisms on Kennedy are getting something in the ballpark of seventy to eighty percent. That’s unheard of!” Kiara explained.
“Why do you think that is?” Thomas asked.
“I have no idea, but I have two running theories. The first theory is that life on Kennedy has been evolving on a significantly longer timetable than life on Earth. The subsurface lifeforms that rely on the energy from the blue slime may have impacted the slime’s evolutionary cycle in such a way that its energy absorption drastically increased. However, that would mean that life on Kennedy has been around several times longer than all life on Earth, possibly by billions of years. Also possible, there were fewer mass extinctions to disrupt the evolutionary process. That would make Kennedy the luckiest damn planet in existence,” Kiara explained.
“What is the other theory?” Thomas asked.
“This theory is far more radical. Wolf 482 is a yellow dwarf, much like our own sun, only slightly bigger. The star is still relatively young. This would mean that Kennedy itself couldn’t possibly be much older than Earth, which is four-point-three billion years old. So how to explain the incredibly advanced photosynthesis of the blue slime? What if the blue slime wasn’t the product of evolution, but rather, the brilliant bio-engineering craft of a highly-advanced civilization?” Kiara said.
“Wait, you mean to say that the blue slime was built? That it isn’t a natural-occurring species?” Thomas asked.
“Yes. It could have been a natural-occurring species at one point, but the sentient species of Kennedy may have sped its evolutionary process through advanced bioengineering. We are potentially dealing with a civilization that can shape the very existence of living organisms to their own micro-specifications. If they can bioengineer living solar arrays, I shudder to think what more they are capable of that we don’t yet know,” Kiara said.
“I see. And what are your thoughts regarding the event that terminated Pelican #882?”
“Oh, that? The exciting part of the second report? You’re wondering if what we saw in those brief two seconds was our first contact with a sentient species, or if it was just some strange sea-creature reacting to a strange object falling from the sky?”
“You read my mind.”
“Hard to say, really. It had lightning-fast reflexes. It saw the Pelican right before it hit the water. The complexity of that thing just blows my mind. Its appendages look like a fiberoptic quilt. It seemed incredibly agile, being able to leap so high in the air despite jumping from below the ocean. Much like the slime, this species is complex to the point that suggests a lengthy evolution. There’s no creature like it in existence. Not here on Earth, not on Europa, and not on Enceladus. If it is the sentient organism of Kennedy, it completely wrecks every theory we ever had about sentient life in the universe,” Kiara explained.
Thomas remained quiet. He carefully contemplated Kiara’s input regarding life on Kennedy. When she finished, he finally spoke. “And now you know why we chose you,” he said. “This will help us prepare for the spacetime sequence. Regardless of which theory is the right one, it seems the Aquarians are a much more formidable species than we anticipated.”
18
December 7, 2081
Manuel was livid. That one of his hackers would so easily fall for a honeypot angered him. That’s why he felt immense relief upon viewing the new message on his smart lens via his proprietary, triple-encrypted, messaging app made by and for members of Terra Rebirth. It included a picture: a lifeless man with his throat slashed. He would only be able to enjoy the image for five seconds before it was permanently deleted, both for him and the sender, his nameless associate on the other side of the world.
6ahg472059kwl__7693: He had it coming. Too much liability. Great work.
iuuu@LOAhnrb3tivG8753O: Reach for the honeypot, fall into the honey bucket.
6ahg472059kwl__7693: Some gangsters get brought down by informants. Some get exposed by hair-brained bookies who leave their tracks uncovered. I intend to be the one who dies of old age.
iuuu@LOAhnrb3tivG8753O: That’s not going to happen if you remain at the beach house.
6ahg472059kwl__7693: I am well aware of this. I wouldn’t worry if I were you.
iuuu@LOAhnrb3tivG8753O: Aye aye.
6ahg472059kwl__7693: For now, you focus on your objectives. Will have more information for you soon.
iuuu@LOAhnrb3tivG8753O: Over and out—
Unbeknown to his associate, Manuel had already been out to sea for two and a half days on a twenty-five-foot sailboat. He l
eft moments after his video message to the world. The small boat was coated in solar-paint and equipped with a small motor. Guiding the vessel was a cloaked, robotic navigation system that gave Manuel the luxury of not having to stand behind the wheel.
Manuel went below deck to rest in the v-berth at the bow of the vessel. There’s only so much sleep a person could get when that person is the world’s most-wanted fugitive and continuously on the run. However, by not resting, Manuel would become sloppy in his work and prone to errors, much like his now-disposed hacker. The window for errors was significantly thinner than the window for sleep.
As he sprawled out on the bed, he quickly scanned through a feed of the day’s news.
Secretary-General Katelyn Lew held a press conference to discuss the second report.
World Reforestation Project planted a record one trillion trees in November.
Cosmineral CEO negotiates temporary agreement with shareholders as investigators close in.
Ten baby woolly mammoths birthed at the Stabbursdalen Nasjonalpark in Norway.
Johannesburg buries victims of embassy attack.
“Barely three days, and already I am downgraded to the fifth byline,” Manuel said aloud. “Sonofabitch.” He removed his smart lens and proceeded to sleep, then sometime later, he was woken by a beeping noise. The AI-navigator initiated the alarm clock built into the v-berth. Manuel stretched his arms and climbed out. He looked at the clock and was dismayed to see he had only gotten two hours of rest. He made his way to the upper deck.
It was an open ocean in all directions. The faintest crack of dawn made itself visible on the eastern horizon. Manuel knew the AI-navigator would not have awoken him unless a patrol ship had sighted his boat or if he had reached his destination. Manuel saw no other vessels in sight but was in disbelief that he had arrived.
Manuel’s concentration was broken by the familiar sounds of seagulls flying in the distance. He scanned carefully and noticed a series of barely-visible structures protruding from the water. The navigator was correct. He had reached his destination. It was District #284, Ruins of Miami, in the Democratic People’s Republic of Florida.
Manuel stood quietly on the deck as the boat moved further toward its destination. Buildings with names such as Fontainbleau, Edition, Palms, and even a Ritz-Carlton greeted him as he passed through the abandoned, partially-submerged, ghost city of Miami Beach. These once-thriving monuments were of a bygone era that Manuel only knew through art, music, and movies.
His ancestors had been alive in Miami during a time before the Second Civil War and Third World War when America was seen as a bastion of consumption and greed. Millions of people living in total denial of their changing climate as their cities fell to rising waters, was why historians referred to that era as the Age of Ignorance.
In Manuel’s mind, the ruins of Miami served the same purpose for future generations as the abandoned concentration camps from the Holocaust. They were stark reminders of the wanton destruction that human greed was capable of. It was a destruction that Manuel believed could not be stopped by negotiation nor compromise. Doing so would be equivalent to capitulation. Manuel felt the only way to stop greed’s worst instincts was with a fervor and zeal that would drive fear and shock into the hearts of those who cause it. At least that was how he worded it when it came time to herd the sheep.
As one set of buildings moved behind him, a much larger amalgamation of abandoned skyscrapers laid just two miles away. This was the remains of downtown Miami. Manuel was passing through Biscayne Bay, which had grown significantly in size. Banks, condo towers, and the headquarters of long-defunct corporations towered over Manuel. However, it was one particular building that grabbed Manuel’s attention.
The Diamondhead Resort was a giant turquoise cylinder with a bright blue diamond-shaped crown atop the building. The entire exterior was made of a thick layer of graphene, which was nearly impossible to destroy by conventional means. Manuel peered at the structure. The clearing was wide enough to fit multiple boats.
Except as Manuel did so, the world around him disappeared. A giant cloaking soft-screen canopied over to give the appearance that it was just an open water area. In reality, Manuel was now in a small cavernous space that was illuminated by floodlights. Several small boats were already anchored inside the cloaked canopy, and a makeshift pier sat at the foot of where the building met the water. A giant arch of an entrance sat atop the pier.
Manuel tethered the boat to the pier. The entrance to the building was a massive steel door with a keypad to the left. Manuel punched in several numbers and waited. A light above the steel frame lit up green. The steel doors opened, and Manuel walked inside. He entered a bright, white room that did not fit with the older architecture of the building.
This was new, likely added within the past few months. Manuel saw a vacuum-sealed port at the other end of the room. Moments later, the pressure of the room shifted as that port opened, inviting him inside.
Manuel moved into the port entry. He was now in a glass room with another identical port at the other end. This was a vacuum room. Oxygen promptly filled the glass box, and within seconds the other port door unlatched. Manuel stepped inside and was standing in the heart of the Diamondhead skyscraper.
The skyscraper had been gutted. It was a cavernous, well-lit cylinder with engineers attached to ropes as they tended to construction work at different levels of the building. In one area, a massive sheet of graphene composite was being welded to the cylindrical wall.
A young man noticed Manuel from the ground deck.
“Hey, everybody! The boss is here!” he shouted. Immediately, everybody stopped what they were doing and cheered the arrival of their leader. Manuel took a bow and then motioned to everybody to get back to work. A young woman approached Manuel.
“Hey, boss,” the woman said. “I am thankful to see you made it here alive. GSF drones are swarming the area.”
“Mrs. S. Pleasure to see you too,” Manuel said. He observed the gutted interior of the skyscraper. What used to be the balcony-lined atrium now had graphene paneling, hologram screens, mini-reactors, and an operation that seemed more fitting for a military base. “Diamondhead Resort. I stand impressed. You’re not worried though that Democratic People’s Republic may spot us? The Great Florida Wall is only fifteen miles north of here.”
“We carefully evaded their surveillance. The canopy fooled ’em so far. Everything outside is covered in the same material, so passing observers can’t see the true insides. Even if they could, they wouldn’t see past one inch. The reinforced composite walls that we’ve installed ensure that,” Mrs. S said.
“Very good,” Manuel replied. “How will the structure hold up?”
“We anticipate no complications. This thing is a fortress and will be able to survive the most powerful forces. We were a bit concerned about water creeping into the bottom decks, but have since fully dredged it and can assure you that it remains completely vacuumed from the outside elements. Meanwhile, the ion equipment has been successfully installed,” Mrs. S said.
“What is our timetable?”
“We may need a few more days to fully equip the diamond. But once that’s complete, phase three will be ready to initiate on your command.”
19
December 15, 2081 - Deck #20 Research Observatory
“Welcome to Space Station Sagan. I hope your journey was a restful one. You’ll be needing it,” Isla said. She spoke to Kiara, Matt Leon, Dr. Srivastava, Captain Starling, and the holograms of Katelyn Lew and Thomas Adler. Behind Isla was a massive brass telescope that peered out toward the glass pane that contoured the quarter-circle room. The observatory was on the side of the station facing away from Earth, because what use would it be if it wasn’t aimed out at space?
“We’re sorry we couldn’t be there today,” Katelyn said. “But Thomas and I have an important summit to attend in Shanghai.”
“Oh, I think we can hold the fort down just fine,” Isla re
plied. “So, gammanauts, can any of you take a guess why I chose this room for our briefing today?”
“Because you get sick of looking at Earth all day?” Kiara asked. Everyone reacted in laughter.
“You would think that, Dr. Lacroix,” Isla said. “But believe me when I tell you that after a few months on this thing, you come to miss Earth as if it were family. Now, I brought you to the observatory for a reason. I want you all to take a look outside.” Isla unveiled a green laser pointer and aimed it at a specific point on the glass pane.
“You can’t see it, but several miles from this point is a particle acceleration ring that’s in a geosynchronous orbit with the station,” Isla explained. “You can accomplish beautiful things with artificial gravity. That ring, when powered, has enough energy to jumpstart a wormhole initiation process. The constant feed of Sagan’s laser beam turrets will supply the necessary flow of energy to keep the sequence alive. Once the spacetime bridge has been successfully opened, the radio-wave and gamma-ray communication phase will commence.
“First, the virtual environment will be uploaded through the sequence. Second, your consciousnesses will be brought to a virtual staging area on this side of the sequence. When ready, you will cross the greater bridge between here and Wolf 482. Once on the other side, you will arrive at the virtual landing environment, where you will complete the tasks of your mission. When you are finished with the mission, there will be a mechanism in the virtual environment that, when triggered, will send an encoded message to the Sagan through the spacetime sequence. From there, we will retrieve the virtual environment, as well as your consciousnesses, and you will go back to your everyday lives. Any questions?”
“How much time will we have on the other side before the Sagan’s reactor reaches peak output, and you are forced to shut down the sequence?” Kiara asked.
“That’s an excellent question, Dr. Lacroix,” Isla replied. “The Sagan’s fusion reactor is quite powerful. But even that only goes so far when a significant percentage of output is used to support a wormhole. The reactor fail-safe forcibly activates after two days. We do not anticipate you being in the sequence for two full days, and should it take that much time, we would auto-trigger the return bridge and the shutdown phase of the sequence. Don’t worry. We won’t leave you hanging.”
