“I’m both happy and proud that Raven has no need to suppress her genetic identity,” he forced eye contact, “In a way, we have Devon Kohlner to thank.”
Trudy’s polished facade flickered ever so slightly.
“Yes,” Lana joined in, “he paid me a visit, when Raven was very young. His perspective on genetic suppression proved invaluable.”
Trudy skipped past two full pages of notes, “Lovely… maybe they’ll… maybe the two of them are talking about it right now.”
“That might be a bit difficult,” Raven’s voice came from somewhere behind the camera.
Ivan could see her beyond the lights, squeezing between various people and waving her bodyguard to stay out of the way.
“Well, viewers,” Trudy smiled, but was obviously completely thrown by the situation, “It seems that Raven Meznic herself will be joining us…”
Ivan and Lana couldn’t help smiling as they shuffled up to make room for her on the sofa. As Raven made her way onto the set, he could see that she’d chosen to wear an open-backed T-shirt for the occasion; something that would allow the fleshy, rounded protrusions on her shoulder blades to be seen by any of Trudy’s viewers. His daughter’s genetic statement couldn’t have been clearer.
Regaining some of her composure, Trudy smiled and gestured toward the sofa, “We weren’t expecting you…”
“Are you kidding?” said Raven, “No way that I’d miss the exclusive.”
Trudy’s ears appeared to prick up at the word.
“Hi Dad,” she sat down and gave him a peck on the cheek, then did the same for Lana, “I said I’d be here, sorry I’m late.”
“Thank you,” he whispered.
She winked back at him then leaned all the way forward, allowing her long hair to drape in front of her. She sat up again quickly and, in reaction, her hair traced a long slow motion arc before softly falling into place around her shoulders. Ivan discreetly covered his mouth in an attempt to hide his developing smirk.
“Welcome,” Trudy discreetly tucked her hair behind an ear, “So, Raven, you mentioned an exclusive.”
“Not mine,” she replied and sat back in the sofa, “Ask my parents.”
Lana took the cue and leaned forward.
“The Eridanus has been on a journey of two million years,” she began, “If we didn’t find a planet, we knew we would have to go further on.”
“But we have found a suitable planet, and it is time to go,” Ivan continued, “Every piece of data confirms it.”
Trudy began nodding and flipping through her notepad.
“Yes, I was going to ask you about the rumours of enforced evacuation. What about those who say the environmental reports are fake? What if the planet is actually dangerous?” she turned away from him to face the camera, “If I remember my history classes, I think Will Pittman was quoted with saying it was a bad idea to put all our eggs in one basket. What if there was a disaster during the first few days? Bang! Humanity would be wiped out.”
“We agree,” said Lana.
Trudy opened her mouth, but then realised she didn’t have anything to argue against.
“Unfortunately,” Lana continued, “there is no way to make people believe what they don’t want to believe.”
Ivan leaned forward.
“Putting eggs in different baskets is probably the responsible thing to do. So we’re not going to wait. Shuttle Bergstrom is being prepped for launch as we speak.”
Lana immediately continued.
“It will make a return trip that will bring back human proof for everyone. But if anyone wants to go to Eri right now, they can.”
“We have space for eighty people,” Ivan added.
“Make that seventy-nine,” Raven sat forward.
Both he and Lana turned to face her.
Their intention had been to check that the planet was safe before allowing their daughter to join them. The young woman between them, clearly had her own opinion.
“I know this is something I have to do,” she told them both, “When I consider the work started by Noah Broadstone and Chen Tai, the more I’m sure that ‘Beyond the Earth, equal rights for all’ has never been more significant or relevant…”
She angled one of her shoulders to the camera.
“… I have to lead by example. If people choose to move to the planet, they have to know that their race, colour and genetics will be considered to be normal facets of human life.”
Neither he or Lana were able to speak. They both simply stared at their devastatingly mature daughter. Trudy however, spotting a lull in the conversation, didn’t have a problem filling the quiet moment.
“So you’ll be abandoning your position within Luóxuán Biotech?”
“No, Trudy,” Raven explained patiently, “I’ll simply be establishing a larger fabricator facility on Eri. Free for all to use.”
•
In the region behind the studio’s bright lights, Devon turned away from the set and asked Toby to follow him.
In profit-making terms, the announcement was utterly catastrophic. Supply was about to outstrip demand; he’d be left with a dwindling market that had no incentive to stay aboard the Eridanus.
When they were far enough away from the light, he turned and kept his voice low.
“Here,” he handed Toby a small carry case.
“Is this it?” he took it.
“My personal vote of no confidence in our CEO,” he frowned.
“Trust me,” said Toby, “that piece-of-shit orphanage-reject ain’t a problem. There’s somebody on the work crew that I -”
“Stop,” he cut in, “Don’t want to know.”
In actual fact, he did want to know, but he’d had to sacrifice total control in exchange for deniability; if things went wrong, nothing should lead back to him.
“Just…” he looked at Toby, “make sure that they get put in the right place.”
In the dim shadows, he could tell that Toby was still staring at him.
“I’m sorting it,” he almost growled, “But if you want her to keep trusting me, I’m supposed to be back over there.”
Toby pushed past him and resumed his position standing on the periphery of the lights.
DOTS
Marcus tried to think of a comfortable place to work from. It took only a second to find several images of his old London flat. After the police had raided it, the photos had ended up in an Archive report as evidence of his hacker background.
After merging the photos to create a pseudo three-dimensional space, he walked into his old bedsit and sat down at his workstation.
“Home, sweet dump,” he remembered.
Twisting around on his chair, he saw the old, blanket-covered sofa, lit by a small yellowish lamp. When he hadn’t been manning his keyboard, he’d often crashed there until it was time to wake again.
“Sleep mode,” he laughed at the computing analogy.
He knew he wouldn’t be needing that part of the simulation, so turned to face the glow of his monitors.
When he’d actually lived here, he’d achieved an electronic connection to the outside world by syphoning his neighbour’s broadband connection. Now, within this construct of a former life, his connection to Fai’s raw data would be a thousandfold faster.
With a single thought, one of his monitors expanded in size to accommodate a digital pin board; somewhere he could assemble pieces of information and make connections.
He’d already seen Ebony’s compacted Earth-side story. To get any further, he knew he’d have to look at what happened aboard the Eridanus. He’d have to begin with her death.
“Talk to me, Ebony,” he sent out the search.
Fai’s returned data only reinforced the facts that Raven had already told him.
Ebony’s Biomag ID had been registered at several locations as she moved through the Eridanus. She’d made a heartbreaking audio recording in the aviary biome. Minutes later, Ebony’s Biomag had reported a life function failure. Th
e remote location meant that the moment went unobserved by any camera.
He desperately needed to know where everyone was at the time of her death. Unwrapping the cylinder’s interior into a flattened map, he plotted the positions of every Biomag ID; a chaotic swarm of dots that filled the screen. Zooming in, he saw a single dot leave the aviary, go slowly south and then extinguish itself.
No other dot had been anywhere near her.
He had held a theory that she’d been the victim of foul play; the large amount of suppressor drugs found with Raven could have made her a target. However, the more he looked, the less likely his theory seemed.
He stared at the map.
Having no Biomag of her own, Raven had apparently been left in the aviary biome because of its protective Biomag network. Had she been capable of crawling, she could’ve moved around the space quite freely. He found it somewhat ironic that Raven’s movement had become more restricted after she’d left the aviary’s cage: Fai had assigned her an ID number and Biomag, and she’d become subject to the same Field rules as everyone else. Another dot in the swarm.
A lightning-bright thought flashed through his mind.
To stay anchored to the Field, everyone had to carry a Biomag, but the ID chip within it was only a computing convenience; a way to make life simpler when interacting with Fai’s various systems.
As far as he could tell, no-one had considered the possibility of checking for a Biomag that had no ID chip.
If a person could move around without Fai’s detection, then Ebony’s apparent suicide could actually have been murder.
Marcus rewound the data record, stopping when Ebony’s dot had reignited into life and retreated to the safety of the aviary.
He knew that electronically detecting a rogue Biomag wasn’t possible, but the human that wore the device was a different matter. His considerable hacking experience had shown him that humans leaked their data everywhere they went.
Of all locations, Ebony had chosen the forest. If he assumed her choice wasn’t accidental, then it was relevant to the situation. She’d gone to a place filled with trees for a reason.
“Trees,” he framed his search, “Eridanus.”
The results arrived almost instantly, dominated by children’s crayon drawings. Many depicted trees arranged in a circle, growing towards a sun at the centre, others showed trees giving off wiggly lines that passed into the noses of stick-people. The drawing ability varied widely, but the lesson being taught at school was the same: in the closed environment of the Eridanus, trees provided oxygen and they deserved protection. However, he found it hard to believe that the safeguarding of oxygen generation lay solely in the affirmative messages of children.
“Environmental protection systems.”
This time, more technical-looking data arrived: irrigation network efficiency, air density and quality, axial sun output and heat absorption ratios. One by one, he began layering the various sources over his map, looking for inspiration.
Another set of data rolled into place, a multicoloured image that covered the interior of the cylinder. It seemed that Fai kept a close check on surface heat distribution. The continuous monitoring was understandable; a fire within the Eridanus, however small, had the ability to rapidly affect air quality. Given that the forests were essentially the lungs of the Eridanus, it was unsurprising that Fai’s monitoring resolution was much higher in these areas.
He ran the data forwards.
Ebony’s dot emerged from the aviary, but this time a diffuse orange glow trailed behind it; faint body heat evaporating into the night air. He quickly adjusted the output scale to make the glow more visible.
Moving away from the aviary, his daughter’s dot entered the forest clearing. Then he saw it. Converging on her position was a glow with no dot.
Suddenly, it was all over. Ebony’s heat signature smeared and faded. The Biomag ID dot became an x shape.
Someone had watched his daughter die.
Anger saturated him and he repeatedly slammed his fists into the workbench; a pointless simulation of an action that failed to rid him of the emotion. Compressing his blunt rage into a scalpel of cold logic, he turned to face the screen, and cut away at the data.
Soon all that remained was a glow that moved over the map.
He just wanted a contact point where the glow interacted with something digital. Once that connection was made, he’d have a name.
The meandering dot made its way south and entered a structure, eliminating the heat signature from view. Marcus instantly researched everything there was to know about the building; its amenities, the occupants, their places of work, their families and friends.
Within a few seconds of the person entering the building, one of the apartments had activated a temperature controlled shower. After fourteen minutes the flow had stopped and an electronic order had been placed with Fai for a jacket. When Marcus considered the proximity of the person to his daughter’s bloody death, the reason for the long shower and new clothes now seemed obvious.
It was a trivial matter to discover that the jacket was an exact copy of a previous order. Clearly the intention was to cover up the fact that the original was damaged, by wearing a duplicate.
The order gave him a name.
It also gave him access to the rest of Toby Dwight’s history aboard the Eridanus. Marcus devoured every last byte. The record ended with Toby’s actions at Helix Station.
Marcus felt panic immobilise his thoughts.
The man who had watched or caused his daughter’s death, had been put in charge of protecting his granddaughter’s life.
He reached out through multiple pathways, checking for interactions, correlations and tangential facts. One data exchange caused him to stop in his tracks. He had no way of knowing how much real-world time had elapsed since starting his investigation, but he knew he had to let Raven know immediately.
“Fai!” he shouted.
Of course there was no response, he was a simulation with permission to interact with one person only. He would have to wait until Raven returned to her office.
His monitor of overlaid information suddenly reset itself, resuming its former size, and becoming blank. The screen began displaying lines of text.
>ARCtabletFabrication[Pass]…
Evidently the mobile unit that Raven had requested was now ready. He remembered that Fai was under instruction to transfer him as soon as possible.
>PreparingMigrationPath…
With any luck, he’d be able to tell Raven what he’d found sooner than he thought.
>Shutdown.Transfer[BlakeM]…
Before he could yell out, his mind simply stopped.
DELIVERY
Of the Bergstrom’s available eighty seats, only two had remained unfilled. Raven could see the last few people making their way aboard the massive vessel. The crowd that had gathered in this area of New Houston collectively made cheering and booing noises; some wished the voyagers well, others just wanted them to leave.
Soon she’d have to get aboard too, but she’d been waiting for a last minute delivery. Ideally she didn’t want to leave without it.
Suddenly she spotted Loren Ballard waving.
“Hey!” she waved back and dashed over to her.
“Here you go,” Loren handed her a small, soft case, “Hot off the fabricator press.”
“Thanks Loren!” she shouted over the crowd, “See you in about a week.”
“The little Meznic girl,” Loren hugged her, “All grown up. You take care of yourself, alright?”
“I will,” she hugged her back, “I’ll send lots of photos.”
Loren patted her and pulled away.
“Interlinked recube recordings would be better,” she rolled her eyes, “Best chance we’ve got of convincing this lot that Eri’s real.”
“Raven,” Lana waved to her from the Bergstrom’s side door, “Launch window’s closing.”
“You better go,” Loren nodded and backed away, “B
e good.”
Smiling, Raven turned and walked back toward the craft.
She’d been up close to it before, but now it somehow felt alive and poised to make its leap to the axial level above them. She could see the miniature control surfaces on the wings twitching and the manoeuvring jets swivelling back and forth; somewhere inside, Abel was testing the flight systems.
Raven turned to take in the view of the Eridanus. Although the far end of the cylinder was still in broad daylight, the section of axial sun immediately above them had been deactivated to make their exit easier. As a result, Toby’s face was in partial shadow as he approached her.
“Miss Meznic,” he pointed to the case she was holding, “Should I check that?”
Everywhere they went, it seemed he was always evaluating the opportunity for potential threat.
“No, it’s alright,” she smiled.
“Do you know what’s inside it?” he frowned.
Having not yet seen the device that Fai had created for her, she wasn’t exactly sure what to say.
“It’s just a computer tablet,” she simplified, “It’s fine.”
He nodded, “Just thought I’d ask.”
Despite her initial reservations about having a bodyguard, she had to admit that he’d done his duty. Although she hadn’t liked his actions at Helix Station, he had kept her safe.
“Toby,” she offered out her hand, “I just wanted to say thanks for everything you’ve done.”
He seemed to avert his eyes in embarrassment.
“Not at all,” he shook her hand, “I’ll be right here when you get back.”
Hearing the Bergstrom’s engines achieve a synchronised pitch, she knew it was time to go. She gave him another smile and, after picking up her backpack, she turned and went inside.
She made her way forward around the curving right-hand aisle, between seats that faced each other. Nervous chatter filled the air as parents busily reassured their children, adjusted harnesses and handed out vomit bags. For many, this would be their first time in zero gravity. Other people just stared ahead blankly, their expressions fixed in contemplation of their decision to leave the Eridanus.
The Bridge Page 34