*
The last days of the Heilmann Drive were a chaotic storm of relocation. The trade routes were winnowed down and, one-by-one, the planets were cut off from the rest of human society. They were on their own, perhaps forever. The last Heilmann Leap, between Earth and Rogovia, occurred with little fanfare. The celebration was saved for the decommissioning ceremony, which would occur when the final three starships were destroyed aboard the Europa Station.
Seth tried to quell the churning in his stomach as he watched the workmen move about the large warehouse of the station. They were converting it into a dance hall. One of the men was resurfacing the metal floor, running a large motorized device over it to give it a glossy sheen. Several others were installing makeshift bars and tables near the edges of the room. An engineer, rappelling from the roof, measured spots where windows could be installed to look out on the brilliant glow of the Europa sky.
He had to remind himself that he did all of this. It was his idea to spin the last days before the Fall as a jubilee rather than a death march. He proposed all of this, and had to convince Commissar Absalom that it was a good idea.
It wasn’t easy. At first, Absalom called the idea “bread and circuses”. He claimed this was a Vangelian phrase used to describe the hedonistic Republic lifestyle. Seth couldn’t bring himself to correct the commissar about the origin of the term, since he agreed with him in principle. Celebrating the end of faster-than-light travel, and the dark age it brought, was in poor taste. Still, he convinced Absalom that it was the right thing to do and the way to win the support of the people on Earth.
At the moment, it just made Seth uneasy. He still had trouble wrapping his mind around just how much he’d helped the Republic over the last couple of months. First he became their unofficial spokesman for the Fall, issuing a speech every week in support of the Spatial Preservation Act. Then he saved the life of Commissar Absalom. Now he was advising the commissar how turn the tide of public support in favor of the SPA.
This was all part of his plan. Everything he did, he did for a reason. He was the only person in the galaxy who could prevent the Fall. He thought he could do it by copying the Heilmann Drive design documents, but that failed. Now, the only hope he had was to hijack one of the few remaining starships before they could all be decommissioned.
To steal a ship right out from under the nose of the Republic, he needed two things. First, he needed their trust. Months of supporting the Republic agenda and schilling for the Spatial Preservation Act put him in Absalom’s good graces. He wasn’t sure if Chairman Stevens or the High Council trusted him, but that wasn’t important Absalom had jurisdiction over all aspects of the SPA. He was the one Seth needed to convince, and that was all but done.
Second, Seth needed chaos. The Europa Station was heavily guarded. Soldiers were stationed at every doorway, in every storage bay, and patrolled every hallway with clockwork vigilance. If Seth tried to enter one of the repair bays, or leave the airlock and head out onto the dock, he wouldn’t make it five feet. Even with the trust of the Republic, approaching the starships was out of the question. He needed to pull the guards off the ships. He needed to give them a reason to panic and abandon their duties.
That’s where the parties came in.
Seth had spent the last few years studying the quirks of offworld societies, but he knew more about the Republic than any of them. The people on Earth were weak-willed, coddled by centuries of prosperity and indulgence. They embraced fads and new experiences, and they followed the lead of their government to a fault. He knew as soon as the Republic began to advertise massive parties, they would become the hottest ticket on the planet.
And the most exclusive party would be on the Europa station, where the last ship would actually be decommissioned. Everyone who was anyone would beg and barter their way inside. On the last night of faster-than-light travel, the Europa Station would be full of some of the most important people in the Republic. High Council members, commissars, celebrities, and their children would fill the dance hall that was now being constructed.
They would be Seth’s key to success. But if he didn’t succeed? If he didn’t manage to steal one of the last starships? Then he would do nothing but help sell the Fall to the people of Earth.
“What a bizarre sight this all is.”
Seth felt his heart leap in his chest. He glanced behind him to see Commissar Absalom standing near the doorway. He was leaning against the bulkhead, watching the workers re-fit the cargo bay. A disgusted look was twisted upon his face. He looked even more unhappy than Seth.
The commissar pushed himself away from the wall and started to limp towards the middle of the bay. “I never thought I’d see the day we turned the Europa Station into a hell-bound dance hall. What have you done, Mr. Garland?”
“Approval for the Spatial Preservation Act is up ten percent on Earth. I think I made your life a little easier.”
Absalom clapped him on the back. “That you did. I guess I should count myself lucky that you’re on my side.” Seth forced a smile. “Now come on, there’s no reason to sit around watching these men tear down a cargo bay. Let’s go get a drink. The best part of your ridiculous scheme is that it gave me an excuse to requisition some quality spirits for this station.”
Seth furrowed his brow. It was the first time Absalom had invited him to anything outside of their work with the Spatial Preservation Act. The commissar’s life was his job. Seth had never seen him do anything but work and sleep. He didn’t quite know how to react, and ended up saying the first thing that came to mind. “I thought Vangelians didn’t drink.”
The commissar leaned towards him. “And I thought you weren’t stupid enough to ever call me a Vangelian.” A moment of pained silence passed between them as Seth started to wonder if he’d committed an unthinkable faux pas. But then the commissar smiled. “Do not worry about it, Mr. Garland,” he said. “You can make it up to me by buying the first round.”
Nervous laughter bubbled up from Seth’s chest as he realized that the commissar was just joking with him. Absalom’s sense of humor was almost as surprising as Absalom’s invitation to go drinking. “Sure. Let’s go.”
Faster Than Light: Babel Among the Stars Page 17