A few hundred at most, she guessed, trying not to let her solemnity show.
The rest will be left behind.
four
Only forty seconds from his destination at full speed, a large arrow appeared before Chase on the ground up ahead, digitally superimposed by the Wasp’s reactive windshield in the same manner as the obstacles he had overcome earlier. He asked the Wasp for a closer look and was immediately shown a close-up from one of the plane’s excellent exterior cameras. On the small inlet screen that appeared on the windshield he then saw a boy running around 300 metres ahead of a grounded and open transport capsule, evidently having had some kind of problem with the capsule and evidently trying to make it to see the launch before there was nothing left to see.
Although the launch site at the RPZ was well under a minute away by Wasp, it would have been a considerable journey on foot.
With Holly’s words echoing in Chase’s mind — “there’s no way we can start without you” — he changed the Wasp’s course and rapidly descended for an impromptu landing.
The boy stopped in his tracks and turned to face the Wasp. When Chase got low enough to make out the boy’s face, he recognised him as a fifteen- or sixteen-year-old trainee communications officer named Bradley Reinhart. The unplanned pickup would doubtless earn Chase a private dressing down from Holly later in the day, but a relatively mild inconvenience for him would make all the difference in the world for young Bradley, who would otherwise have had no chance of reaching the RPZ in time to witness the launch.
Bradley walked towards the Wasp as it touched down, confusion etched on his face. Chase wasted no time getting out and instead beckoned Bradley inside with a hand gesture. The boy was only too glad to oblige. “Uh, shouldn’t you already be at the launch?” he asked as he climbed in the open door.
“Holly said they won’t start without me,” Chase said, assisting Bradley with his safety belts. “What happened to your capsule, anyway? Why did you have to run?”
Bradly held his arms aloft; totally unfamiliar with the safety belts, all he could do was let Chase take care of it. “I just left it too late,” he said. “I knew the transport system was being disabled for an hour — everyone did — but I was playing chess with my cousin on Earth and I completely lost track of time. My dad called to ask where the hell I was, but it was too late. The capsule cut off maybe three minutes before it would have arrived. On foot, I would have been lucky to be there before everyone else started to leave.”
Chase nodded in understanding after securing Bradley to his seat. It was very rare for the transport system to be disabled but the reasoning for today’s pause made sense: all research and education was suspended for the rest of the day so that everyone could attend the launch, and it was both deemed unnecessary and unfair for those who normally watched over the colony’s extensive network of transport capsules to have missed it themselves. The necessity of their oversight positions had been called into question on multiple occasions with some voices insisting that the system could manage itself and avoid collisions or traffic bottlenecks, but Holly’s entrenched reluctance to depend entirely on automation for such a core function meant that those voices would never have their way so long as she remained as President of the Colony Council.
“It’s Bradley, right?” Chase asked as he began the takeoff procedure. “You’re training to be a communications officer?”
“Wow,” the boy said. “It’s just Brad, but… I mean… yeah, that’s right. But we’ve never properly met, so I really didn’t think you’d know my name. There are thousands and thousands of people here. Do you know every—”
“They’re not all on track to make the cut for the Kosmosphere,” Chase said.
“You pay attention to our work?” Bradley asked, sounding even more surprised.
“Certain disciplines more than others,” Chase explained, lifting off more gently than normal for the benefit of his inexperienced passenger. “Comms knowledge saved all of our asses back when Holly and the other six of the original landing crew managed to contact the station from here. Thinking outside the box to solve communications problems in a tight spot was crucial again when they took down Boyce, and then again when Steve was trying to get out of the Kompound four years ago. We need people who think like that, outside the box. People like you.”
“A lot of us are doing well,” the boy said, humbly if somewhat awkwardly searching for the right words to downplay his position.
“Glad to hear it. After all, we need a lot of good people. And uh, just a heads-up: this thing goes pretty fast.”
The boy nodded, thinking he knew what fast meant. “So who else is on track? How many disciplines do you follow?”
“Pretty much all of them,” Chase said, speaking over the sudden noise that came with his rapid acceleration. He looked at Bradley and saw him leaning back with an expression of borderline horror. Late was late, so he slowed down very slightly to a less unsettling speed.
“Keep talking,” Bradley panted, short of oxygen not directly because of the Wasp’s pace but more so because of how utterly unaccustomed he was to it. “About anything… just keep talking, okay?”
Chase looked at him again and saw that he was smiling very slightly, as though part of his mind was amused at his body’s reaction to the flight. “We’ll be on the ground again in a minute, dude. But if talking makes it easier… what did you ask earlier, something about which disciplines I was paying attention to? Yeah… well, practically all of them, like I said. Everyone cares about the makeup of the Kosmosphere’s population, but I think I probably care even more because I was inside that Isolation Kompound when Steve flipped.”
Bradley nodded again, this time as though he was really focusing on Chase’s words and as though the conversation was succeeding in distracting him from the flight. “That makes sense,” he said, making Chase grin momentarily since this reply came many times louder than it had to be.
The topic at hand saw Chase’s grin fade quickly, though, and he continued his point as the RPZ drew ever nearer. “Right. And the thing is, Steve wasn’t a bad guy; he just wasn’t psychologically fit for the mission. You know the story as well as I do about how the rest of us were trapped inside there with him. But here’s the thing: when Steve lost it, we only had a week left. My goal at that point was to keep Steve stable until the mission ended. But that’s the difference… because on the Kosmosphere, the mission never ends. There’s no time limit. No one gets out. Whoever we take, we’re stuck with them. And when the idiots who used to be in charge of security for the old Terradox Resort somehow let David Boyce come here under an alias, look at how that problem ended up being solved. Holly, Rusev and all of the others were able to come here from the station and deal with it quickly because the station is so close to here. But the Kosmosphere is going to get further and further away from Earth, Terradox and the station every single day. If something goes wrong, there’s no one else to help. So we need to do two things: we need to bring a lot of smart people who can and will help whenever they have to, and we also need to bring zero bad eggs. Because if we take a single bad egg to the Kosmosphere…”
Bradley remained silent as Chase trailed off. His hands were still gripping the edges of his seat, knuckles whitening thanks to the intensity of his grip, but Chase’s words and tone were now breeding an altogether different kind of concern.
As the RPZ came into view, revealing an enormous crowd on the temporary grandstands that had been fabricated for the launch ceremony, Chase began to descend. He glanced at Bradley and noticed that the nature of his expression had changed from fearful to deeply contemplative. “I hope I’m not talking you out of applying,” he chuckled. “Everything is going to work out. The best people are doing everything possible to make sure only good people get in, and we’re going to have Peter Ospanov back in charge of security once we get there. You’ve been here since before Peter and Viola had to leave, right? You know no one is ever going to be stupid enough to mess
with Peter, just like no one messes with Grav.”
“I guess so,” Bradley said. He then breathed the deepest sigh of relief of his young life so far as the Wasp touched down just a few hundred metres from the grandstand, but his mind was far from soothed.
His fear of the flight was gone, but a frightening seed had been planted in his mind.
five
Light rain began to drip on the ground around Viola’s feet just as she took to the stage in front of New London’s City Hall, standing alone before an intimidatingly huge crowd who had been waiting for many hours to see her. She was kept dry by the personal romotech cloak which was in place to protect her from potential attackers, but the crowd had no such protection.
She saw a number of the better prepared spectators raising umbrellas, which understandably irked those further back whose views were obstructed. Several of those who raised umbrellas lowered them within seconds after generally polite requests from their fellow spectators, but Viola knew that arguments could break out if the rain got any worse. Keeping the New London crowd peaceful and maintaining a positive tone were absolutely crucial factors in how well her speech would be received elsewhere, so this was a real cause for concern.
“One second,” she said to the crowd, holding up a single finger. “I forgot something.”
Viola ran down the steps and glanced around in search of Lance, the Rusentra security officer she’d spoken to moments earlier. Fortunately she spotted him very quickly and was at his side within a few more seconds.
“How long would it take to put a roof over the crowd?” she asked, urgency in her tone. “Just a basic single-layer cloak with run-offs or guttering or whatever we’d need?”
Lance blew air from his lips. “Once we had authorisation? Seconds. To get the authorisation for any kind of weather manipulation, even as localised as this? Hours.”
“Even if it’s me who asks for it?” Viola asked. She knew how this sounded — dangerously close to ‘do you know who I am?’ — but the fact that she was trying to use her position for the benefit of others rather than herself made the words less uncomfortable to utter.
“Unfortunately, yes. The time delay is built in and can’t be over-ridden. We’re not on Terradox, Mrs Ospanov; everything has to be cleared by the committee and even then it’s subject to the delay.”
Viola rubbed her chin in frustrated thought. “There’s already a square barrier around the stage, right? A high but roofless four-sided cloak to stop objects from being thrown onto the stage? That’s what they told me would be in place…”
“That’s right,” Lance said. “But that doesn’t really solve the rain prob—”
“Don’t worry about it,” Viola replied as she ran back up the steps, a fresh idea in mind.
The crowd cheered once again as she reappeared.
“It’s literally impossible for us to put a cloak over you guys while I talk,” she said into the microphone, “so we’re just going to have to stick this out.”
The rain was growing stronger, now bouncing around the base of Viola’s cloak rather than dripping. “You can probably see that I’m not dressed for rain,” she said, gesturing to her long black dress and lightweight shoulder-covering cardigan. “But if we’re all going to get wet, we’re all going to get wet.”
She then pressed a few buttons on her wristband to disable her cloak, feeling momentary regret when the cold rain suddenly hit her.
The crowd roared as she cleared her eyelashes with her thumb and adjusted her long blonde hair.
“Do your worst!” she laughed at the sky, drawing further cheers. “You think us New Londoners are scared of a bit of rain?”
The few remaining umbrellas in the crowd now went down, and Viola saw amused expressions as far as she could see. Her plan, carried out more in hope than expectation, had worked perfectly. Her use of the term ‘us New Londoners’ wasn’t calculated but rather came out naturally, since the first seventeen and latest four of Viola’s twenty-seven years had been spent in the city. These were her people, and they knew she was one of them.
Viola then took a few moments to gather her composure, knowing that as well as the enormous crowd before her, she was also being watched live on giant screens at gatherings across the globe and in hundreds of millions of homes. No one wanted to see her stumble over her words and the crowd was as supportive as they came, but Holly had repeatedly stated that a confident delivery would go a long way to winning over the small minority of people elsewhere who had doubts as to the value or utility of the Kosmosphere project.
“In less than an hour,” Viola began, using a well-practiced and resonant speaking voice which still didn’t come naturally, “years of planning will come to fruition with the launch of the Kosmosphere. In approximately two years, a small crew of humans will walk on the Kosmosphere’s surface for the first time, once it has safely expanded to its final size. Just one year after that — three years from now — the Kosmosphere will depart its holding orbit to set course for the stars, expanding humanity’s reach and decisively ushering in a new and exciting era of deep-space exploration.
“Work is ongoing in preparation for that momentous day of departure, not only here but also on Terradox and the Venus station. We all have a lot to look forward to, and final information on residency applications for life on the Kosmosphere will be made available very soon.
“But while this is very much a day for looking forward, it’s no accident that the launch is taking place on our annual Day of Gratitude. Without the sacrifices of the individuals we are here to honour, none of this would be happening. None of us would be here at all without the sacrifices of these individuals, and that is why we continue to dedicate one day each year to looking back.
“The Day of Gratitude is a day for looking back at the lives, the legacies, and the sacrifices of those who stood up to tyranny so that we could all be free, with particular remembrance of those who are no longer with us to reflect upon the darkest of times they helped see us through.”
Viola paused to avoid speaking over a sudden and rancorous applause. When it died down, the voice of a child near the front of the crowd broke a momentary silence.
“You helped too!” the young girl shouted, genuinely unprompted as far as Viola knew.
Viola smiled awkwardly and nodded. “I appreciate that,” she said. “I assisted when I could, sometimes by being in the right place at the right time, but I count myself lucky to have known Spaceman, Sakura and Rusev. I can understand why some of you look to me and my family and see heroes — or ‘saviours’, as it’s more commonly put — but I look up to those three and the other survivors in the same way… Holly and Grav in particular. Without them, my family would have died on Terradox and Roger Morrison would have had his way.”
With the most emotionally challenging part of her speech out of the way, Viola shifted gears and moved on to providing some new details about the Kosmosphere’s imminent launch. She was at least as keen to watch the events on Terradox as her audience were, and there was no need for her to exaggerate her excitement or enthusiasm for the project.
One of the parts of the remainder of the speech she’d had to rehearse most was the part intended to stress that those left behind would benefit from the work conducted on the Kosmosphere. She dived quickly into this point, keen to get it out of the way:
“I won’t stand here and pretend that Earth has already become a technological utopia thanks to the work that’s been done on Terradox or the Venus station, and I won’t say that a perfect world is coming. What I will say — and what we should all be proud of — is that there has been major progress. Food scarcity is a thing of the past,” Viola said, pausing for a few seconds to let this statement linger exactly as Holly had suggested, “and future breakthroughs will help humanity in other equally important ways. That’s not just a promise, it’s a guarantee.”
The crowd applauded, as expected, but Viola knew she was preaching to the converted. She dearly hoped that her words
would also get through to those less positive about the project.
The rest of the speech passed easily as Viola spoke honestly and openly about her hopes for the future of not just the Kosmosphere but humanity as a whole.
After four years on Earth, Viola Ospanov was itching to move on. And on this third annual Day of Gratitude, she was growing tired of looking back.
As far as Viola was concerned, it was time to look forward. Difficult missions had been completed and difficult battles had been won to reach this point, and the prize for those often-costly victories was the safety and comfort of Earth, Terradox, and the Venus station.
Now, with all three of humanity’s population bases safe and secure, it was high time to look further afield.
Now, it truly was time to look to the stars.
six
While the crowd in Terradox’s Romotech Production Zone were all absorbed by Viola Ospanov’s recent speech as it was relayed to them on an enormous screen, the rapid approach and landing of a Wasp aircraft broke their focus.
“Better late than never,” Grav muttered, standing with Holly in a small square surrounded by four temporary grandstands. These grandstands were packed out with spectators eager to see Holly initiate the Kosmosphere’s launch, with the only single seat currently unoccupied being the one with Bradley Reinhart’s name on it.
Unlike everyone else, Holly and Grav weren’t overly surprised to see Bradley step out of the Wasp with Chase; they knew how far away he’d been four minutes ago, and they knew it didn’t take four minutes to get from there to here. Bradley’s absence had been noted — it was easy to see a space when it was the only space going — and Holly’s mind had put two and two together and already concluded that Chase must have flown over an on-the-way Bradley. Though it wasn’t quite a weakness, Chase’s inability to not help whoever he could had led to lateness in the past, so this really was no surprise.
Terradox Beyond Page 4
