Quarantine

by William Hayashi

  When Christopher made his counter-intuitive discovery in physics in college, his excitement was infectious. Once he revealed the concepts to his friends, and the device he built in secret to prove his discovery, then they also began to see the nearly infinite possibilities that lay before them. In an empty factory located in the near south side of Chicago, their plan to secretly colonize the moon was born.

  It was no wonder Benjamin grew up with a love of technology and space travel. Chuck began Benjamin’s pilot training when he turned thirteen, then turned him over to the colony’s best pilot, Angela Weathers, a former U.S. Navy fighter pilot. Benjamin learned all about combat tactics much to the chagrin of his parents. But with no opportunity to mix it up with any hostile spacecraft beyond the orbit of Mars, and with Chuck’s assurances that he personally would keep a lookout during training, Benjamin became one of the colony’s top pilots.

  Benjamin had piloted repair sorties around the exterior of the colony. He was able to retrieve smaller asteroids to mine for their metal and mineral content, earning him the respect of the older pilots for the care with which he undertook every mission. His plan was to be the first pilot to fly a faster than light spacecraft.

  Over the past decade, his Uncle Peanut had rotated several probes into interdimensional space, trying to find a route through which the universe’s speed of light was not the top speed of travel. The goal was to be able to explore the galaxy much faster than rocket-based technologies, the pinnacle of space propulsion prior to Christopher’s discovery.

  Dinnertime was always fun for the Wrights. With so much going on in the colony, new discoveries, progress on various scientific projects, gossip and the like, there was always something new to talk about. Patricia and Christopher had fun teasing Benjamin about why he wanted his own place, especially speculating about which women in the colony he wanted to spend “quality time” with. But most of the conversation centered around the data that had been recorded by the latest interdimensional probe and what it meant for the possibility of finally sending a manned ship out of their universe and into another dimension.

  “I’m going over the data, with Genesis doing most of the deep analysis, continuing the preliminary work until Peanut gets back from the Earth station. Genesis informed me that Peanut wanted the entire data set sent to him, so he has something to work on while he’s returning,” Christopher explained. “I’m hoping he has some new insight once he’s back.”

  “Was there anything in the data that hinted at whether or not we’ll be rotating a manned spacecraft into interdimensional space any time soon?” Benjamin asked, not noticing the glance that passed between his parents.

  Christopher smiled and squeezed Benjamin’s shoulder. “Try to be patient, your time will come soon enough.”

  “Busted!” Benjamin laughed. “You can’t blame a frustrated explorer for wondering. I know that we’re going to be checking out all the planets and moons in the solar system for years to come, but to arrive in a new solar system would be the….”

  ”Language, young man,” Patricia warned.

  “You know what I mean, Mom. I was thinking about signing on to pilot the mission to Triton coming up. I know someone is likely to ask your permission before they let me go, but with my turning eighteen, I should be able to do whatever I want.”

  “No doubt, young man. But they would only be looking out for your safety,” said Christopher.

  “You’ve never seen it honey, but your father has a notorious temper. You remember when Uncle Chuck told you about our first trip to the moon,” reminded Patricia.

  “Yeah, but it didn’t seem like he sounded that bad,” Benjamin grumbled.

  “Try telling that to the former President of the United States!” Patricia chortled. “Did you see the recordings of that encounter?”

  “No. I’ve been locked out of those files ever since Dad got back. Uncle Chuck has mentioned them.”

  “That’s my doing, Ben. Once you’re eighteen, they’re all available to you just like the rest of the colony’s historical data. Talk to Lucius or Sydney if you don’t want to have to wade through all of them,” suggested Christopher.

  “Yeah, well I was kinda pissed when I found out Joy had seen them, and Genesis kept me locked out. They must be pretty juicy.”

  “Oh, they are, Ben, they are. But, it’s because of your dad that we’re here at all. And that includes making sure we don’t do anything foolish to put either the colony, or any of us living here, at risk.”

  “Hey, I get it Mom. And like Dad said, I’m going to get to see whatever I want in a few days anyway. I can wait.” Benjamin looked at the clock, “Man, look at the time. Sam and Joy will be here in a few minutes. Sam’s bringing a floater for the rest of my boxes. May I be excused?” he asked.

  “Sure thing,” Christopher relied. “Leave your plate, I’ll clean up.”

  “Thanks Dad, Mom,” he said, dashing off to his room.

  * * *

  “Hey, Peanut! Get a move on, I want to leave sometime today!” Roger Whitlow, pilot and fellow astrophysicist reminded him.

  “Just a sec. I got fifty-four new movies for the colony’s entertainment channels,” Peanut replied. “Okay, that’s it!” he disconnected the data-store from the Ops console.

  They took the ladder down to the hanger level, finding the station’s current staff waiting to see them off. Cheryl Dinkins, Rachel Mallory, Jonathan Fine, and Larry Lyles were the current defensive compliment stationed on the colony’s space station orbiting in Earth’s L4 LeGrange point. It was their responsibility, along with a clone of the colony’s A.I., to ensure that Earth’s space embargo was enforced. The space station was a hair over sixty meters in diameter and could have easily accommodated a staff of twenty. The extra space was used for a full floor of hydroponics for air treatment and supplemental food production, augmenting supplies brought to the station when personnel were rotated back to the colony. There was even a tank of salmon that was harvested sparingly. The station itself was of a double-hulled construction with the inner space between walls used for water storage, also partially replenished monthly. This gave the recycling system a measure of relief and allowed those stationed there to pretend they weren’t drinking and bathing in their own reprocessed wastewater.

  Half of one floor was filled with an extremely sophisticated chemical processing plant that sterilized solid waste and extracted useful chemicals and compounds, most was returned to the colony, but a portion was used agriculturally. What would have normally been divided into three floors or decks, was completely open and used as a hanger for spacecraft. The floor of the hanger also shared the floor of the deck above, making for a somewhat tricky flip going through the hatch between decks since the artificial gravity flipped 180 degrees once one passed from one level to the other. The reason for the unusual design was that a flat hanger floor made the space station design easier and allowed the work and living space to be located at the “top” of the station’s decks instead of allocated as a hanger for the ships. So, seemingly standing upside down, the defense crew, Roger and Peanut were saying their goodbyes.

  “Peanut, be sure to thank your team for the new add-ons when you get back, it was amazing to watch you and Roger in action, getting everything installed,” said Larry. “And Roger, it was a lot of fun dogfighting with you, I learned a lot!”

  “I can’t take any credit for those two tricks, Angela taught them to me!”

  Once Peanut finished stowing his equipment, he reappeared at the airlock of the jumper, “Okay, time for us to hit the road. It was a blast; I don’t get out nearly enough these days.”

  “Oh yeah, we all pitched in and made a present for Jefferson,” Cheryl handed Peanut a wrapped package.

  “Will you be getting back in time for his birthday?” Rachel asked.

  Looking at Roger he said, “Don’t see why not. Thank you all for the hospitality, and for the gift.”

  “Are you kidding? A k
id’s fifth birthday is special; a whole hand’s worth of fingers old!” Jonathan said, drawing laughter from everyone as they exited the deck.

  Roger gave a wave before triggering the lock to close. The crew left the hanger, easily flipping orientation as they made their way to the command deck once the airlock was secured.

  “Ready to disembark,” Roger radioed.

  “Roger, Roger. Opening airlock,” said Larry.

  Moments later, the jumper rose outside the command deck viewport. Everyone waved, then Roger turned the jumper and set off for the colony.

  Once everything was stowed away, Peanut checked with Roger to see if he needed help with anything, but Roger declined. Peanut then fired up his datapad to go over the files from the latest interdimensional probe experiments. They’d been sending probes outside the universe for a dozen years now, but there were still too many unknowns. The most important was the question of whether they could ensure that any spacecraft traveling into other dimensions could maintain a bubble of space/time from this universe to keep the occupants alive and healthy. Even more important, they needed to know that over the long haul they could keep their spacecraft running properly.

  That’s what had been vexing Peanut and Christopher. Had they not had the colony’s A.I. to assist in running countless simulations and designing hardware upgrades, they never could have rotated out of this universe in the first place. As a research tool, Genesis was like having thousands of scientific experts on call twenty-four hours a day. And the A.I. was the fastest theoretical mathematician known to man.

  Their jumper did not carry a clone of Genesis like the space station, so to communicate with Genesis, a several minute communication lag had to be tolerated. His tablet could communicate with the colony’s network through the jumper’s comm system and for most tasks, the lag went virtually unnoticed.

  Peanut settled in at the seat next to his bunk and triggered his data pad to download his waiting messages from the colony. He played Christopher’s voice message first:

  “Dude, when are you heading

  back? I don’t want you to miss your

  boy’s birthday. Not to worry if you

  don’t make it though, he’s got half a

  dozen Dutch uncles to dote on him.

  But it would be great if you can be

  there; let me know. Chris, out.”

  He tapped on the reply icon and dictated, “On my way back. Should arrive the day before. I’m looking at the latest probe data on the way back. Can’t wait to see you all. Hug Jefferson and Bernice for me and let them know that I wouldn’t miss his birthday for anything. Peanut, out.” Satisfied with his response he tapped the send icon.

  Even though he had the best of intentions, wanting to get right to work on the latest probe data, Peanut realized that he was beat. The mad dash to get the new shields installed on the space station had gone on for a week, with him getting just the bare minimum of sleep the entire time. Finally, being able to take a breath Peanut could feel the accumulated fatigue weighing on him.

  “Roger, you good for a few hours? I need to grab some shut eye.”

  “Hey, knock yourself out. I’ve got this,” Roger replied. “Besides, I want to really kick this bird into high gear, maybe shave a few hours off our trip. I don’t want you to miss Jeff’s birthday.”

  “Thanks, man. Catch you in a few hours. But wake me if anything comes up.”

  * * *

  While the colonist’s spacecraft tore a hole in space getting Peanut back home to celebrate his son’s birthday, the Special Committee for Nuclear Disarmament at the United Nations was meeting to discuss the one holdout government refusing to even consider destroying their nuclear arsenal: Israel.

  The membership of the committee consisted of representatives from the world’s nuclear superpowers, those who had either destroyed their nuclear stockpiles, or were in the process of doing so. The United States, Russia, China, United Kingdom, France, and now Pakistan and India, made up the current representatives of the select committee. And though North Korea laid claim to its own nuclear stockpile, no one took them serious enough to include them on the committee, the country’s erratic behavior over the previous generation essentially disqualified them.

  Each representative had dual concerns, looking out for their own country’s interests and trying to rid the world of nuclear weapons. Their views ranged from a philosophical, nuclear weapons were so 20th Century, to a much more militant, we will not be denied access to space and the other bodies in the solar system as is our due because of some damn embargo.

  And hanging over the deliberations of the committee was the fact that every country on the planet was such a distant second in technological achievement compared to the space faring blacks, there was no challenging them seriously. At every turn the colonists demonstrated their superiority over Earth’s best scientists and engineers. No amount of subterfuge or brute force had managed to circumvent the colonist’s embargo.

  “First off I would like to extend a very warm welcome to the representatives from Pakistan and India, your dedication to your work speaks for itself,” Committee Chair Hu Cheng said, opening the proceedings. “This task that has taxed the patience, creativity, and persistence of every single one of the world’s nuclear nations. Our work is revolutionary, and in this 21st Century, even more necessary if we are to mature past the rock-throwing and stick-beating stage of human evolution. Thanks to all of you for your hard work and dedication. Normally I would not begin with such preamble, however with our two newest members joining us for the first time, it seemed appropriate,” Hu said in his Oxford accented English. “So, welcome to our new and returning members.”

  There was a polite smattering of applause as the two new members acknowledged the welcome.

  “Okay, down to work,” Hu said, smiling. “We’re here today to begin to try to formulate a successful strategy for dealing with the issue of disarming Israel and securing their security from those with hostile intent around them. There’s no way to paint a nice face on the problem we’re here to address. All our overtures have been rebuffed, the efforts by the representative, as well as formal entreaties from the government of the United States, have been to no avail, and the halt of funding from U.S. only served to harden the Israeli government’s resolve. They simply will not entertain the notion of the elimination of their nuclear stockpile.

  “I believe that we can sympathize with their concerns, but for them to be the only power on the planet retaining atomic weapons cannot, and will not, be tolerated. Perhaps we should hear from the representative from the United States about his country’s dealings with the government in Tel Aviv; Mr. Ambrose?”

  “Thank you, Mr. Chairman,” Ambrose stood and cleared his throat. “Four years ago, our ambassador contacted Israel’s prime minister to place the discussion of nuclear disarmament on the calendar. The response was rather chilly, to say the least. The President received a direct call from the prime minister and was informed that under no circumstance was Israel going to give up their stockpile of nuclear arms. Our intelligence people estimate that they have about one hundred and twenty nuclear devices, most or all aircraft mounted, but a small percentage may be rocket or artillery deployed. Since then, various overtures have been made, but Israel’s position is unchanged.

  “As you know, the United States had been supporting the Israelis to the tune of between twenty and fifty billion dollars every year in direct and indirect aid for decades. The official position of the United States government was that we had an obligation to support the principle democracy in the Middle East, but that excuse wore thin in the face of their prime minister’s insults meted out to the president in the early twenty-teens, as well as Israel’s continued apartheid governance over the Palestinian people.

  “When we cut off their aid, they just took it out on the Palestinian people, co-opting more of their land, starving them, blocking their access to medical care, and the like
. Since then the relationship between our two countries have been nearly nonexistent in terms of cooperation,” Ambrose concluded.

  “Our people also tried to enter in negotiations with their government,” Demetri Vasilov, the Russian representative added. “Owning nuclear weapons is like a holy crusade with these people. They have no trust in anyone but their own people. As far as they are concerned, those weapons are truly essential to their regional security.”

  “Mr. Chairman,” began Bimala Patel the representative from India, the only woman on the committee.

  “Please, we try to conduct ourselves rather informally here. I do not require us to stand on ceremony,” Hu explained. “Please, call me Cheng.”

  “Thank you very much—Cheng,” said Bimala, inclining her head. “Is it the consensus of those who serve on the committee that a voluntary solution may be beyond our reach?”

  Those around the table glanced around at each other until Peter Ambrose spoke up. “I can’t see any viable path to voluntary disarmament. And our informal, back channel discussions with members of the Israeli government have gone cold,” he said, as Demetri nodded in agreement.

  “So, I guess we’re here to draft an agreement that the Israelis will have to accept whether they want to or not?” Pakistani representative Raza Kassar snorted. “How will that work? From everything we know about the Israeli people, they are more than willing to use those weapons against their hostile neighbors. They would surely be willing to deploy them against any invader trying to forcibly confiscate their bombs. And to be honest, there’s over half a century of hostility with their closest neighbors that cannot be ignored.”

  “Do you think they would destroy their own people in the process of defending their lands?” Bimala asked.

  “Surely not!” the French representative, Albert Lapointe replied indignantly. “Dis que ce n'est pas ainsi!”