“We need to have a name. I guess we could just call it the project …” Havelar shook his head.
“Of course we need a name. A name that says something of the magnitude of the challenges we’re talking about here, of the importance. To help us stay inspired.”
“Exodus,” Ramon said quietly, then as the room fell silent, he looked up to see everyone looking at him.
“That’s what this is,” he said, and several nodded, others murmured agreement. The president smiled; he was known to be a religious man.
“Exodus it is.”
December 2072 ~ New York City, New York
There was just a week left until Christmas, and Ramon knew it would be very different this year. Even though they had all pledged not to reveal anything to their families, spouses included, Isabella Solis, as much CEO as her husband but for the title, was the sole exception. But both knew their daughter had to be spared the burden of this knowledge. As a teenager, she had enough on her mind. Still, Ramon wondered what it would be like celebrating Christmas while knowing the world would soon come to an end.
Two days had passed since their last meeting. They were sitting around the same table, almost all the business leaders and the same representatives from the administration, except the president, who had to maintain an appearance to the public as if it was all business as usual. In addition, there were several scientists. Director Shaw had brought several from JPL, some former NASA people, and even a couple of astronomers from ESA who looked mighty jet-lagged. Ramon had brought his wife, Isabella, much to the dismay of Havelar, who agreed with the president that as few as possible should know, including family. Ramon had pushed it through though. Even Havelar had to give in to the fact that, although Ramon Solis was CEO of Cheevo, Isabella had always been a part of the Consortium meetings, speaking on Cheevo’s behalf with as much weight as Ramon.
The meeting had begun half an hour ago, with a recap of previous events and the decision to establish Project Exodus. They all knew they were talking about sending people off Earth to make sure humanity could survive. But the details were blurry, as most of them had no idea where such an expedition could go, and few knew much about space at all. So the goal for the meeting was to come up with options for the scientists to continue working on.
As the walkthrough of the estimates for how Devastator would behave in the coming years drew to a close, Havelar again took charge, and repeated the question they were all pondering.
“So where do we go?” He looked at each and every one of them, and let the question linger for a moment before he continued.
“A viable Mars settlement was always the goal, and for all practical purposes the final destination for most of our space endeavors, at least before we disbanded NASA. After that … well, it was irrelevant. But now that Mars is gone, what options do we have?” One of the former NASA people, Dr. Jacob Grant, a gray-haired man who now worked in the civilian satellite business, spoke first.
“Let’s look at it this way. First, we need to explore the possibilities within the solar system. I mean, that’s obvious. With current technology, anything else is a pipe dream. Second, further out, the stars. Of course, we’re not able to do that today or tomorrow, but let’s consider it anyhow. We’re sort of brainstorming here, folks, we should look at every option, realistic or not. And besides, they didn’t have the technology to send people to the moon in 1961 either. But they did it.” One of the business leaders, looking rather puzzled, interrupted him.
“I don’t know what you’re thinking here, but I just don’t get it. The solar system? Where? With Mars out of the equation now, I can’t see where that would be.” Grant smiled and nodded slowly.
“Actually, you have a point. It may not be possible to live anywhere else in the solar system. What I said was that we need to explore the possibilities, then take care of the obstacles, or rule out the reckless and the impossible.” He sipped his water while the business leader quieted down.
“So, the solar system.” Grant continued. “First off, we will need some way of harvesting resources, since supplies from Earth will not be an option. That makes Earth orbit a bad choice. The moon could be a possibility. It has encrusted oxygen, and minerals, all of which could be mined. The problem is that the moon has no atmosphere and very little water. Those are critical factors when it comes to long-term survival.” Ramon looked over at Havelar, who seemed disinterested and a little annoyed at this point. Grant though, was clearly unaffected, and from the looks of the other scientists, his opinions seemed to carry a lot of weight.
“We could also imagine something like a space station, in orbit somewhere further out, or some kind of free-flying settlement in space.” Eric Sloan, one of the engineers from JPL, shook his head while waving a finger back and forth, almost admonishing. A crinkle in the corners of his eyes, though, let anyone who bothered to look see that he was simply following Grant’s line of thought.
“Let’s not go down that road, Dr. Grant,” said Sloan. “We could barely maintain the orbital stations, and we still had the luxury of ground supplies … We are simply not capable of building lasting, closed life-support systems. There will always be losses, and faults, and unforeseen contingencies. Eventually it will break down. What we need to aim for is something that will last long enough to get us somewhere.” At that point Isabella surprised her husband by speaking.
“So, we need supplies, resources. That means planets, right?” That was Isabella Solis; quick to draw the conclusions, and not wasting time on further discussion when the outcome seemed obvious. The president’s science advisor cut her off though.
“Let’s not get ahead of ourselves, people. We have other options, so please let Dr. Grant continue.” Grant smiled at Isabella before he continued.
“Oh, I think both Dr. Sloan and Mrs. Solis make good points. So no space habitats; we need to be able to replenish our resources at some point. The planets are an option, so are some of the moons orbiting Saturn or Jupiter. NASA found evidence of organic compounds on Titan …” He halted, as a red-faced Havelar stood up and motioned for them all to stop talking.
“Goddammit, you guys. What the hell are you talking about? You all seem to forget one simple fact; we’re human. We need open spaces, land to build upon, to multiply, to expand. Remember, this is about a new beginning, not finding some dark hole to hide out in. We should be looking at ways to create a possibility for life, not just some meaningless existence.” Grant nodded, then several others followed suit. Ramon thought Grant looked like he’d planned this all from the start, and now he got to conclude his own line of reasoning, with all the downsides to the alternatives covered.
“I think it’s safe to say now that we need to find a planet or a large moon which is Earth-like. I’m talking about size, gravity, temperature, water, oxygen, and atmosphere. With an atmosphere we don’t have to wear pressure suits, although it doesn’t have to be breathable. So let’s be clear here. There is nothing remotely like that in our solar system, except Earth. So we’re not talking about the solar system anymore. We’re talking about sending a spaceship to some star system light years away. We’re talking about a new Earth and a new beginning for mankind.” The point seemed to sink in with everyone in the room now. Man had never travelled to the stars before, and now, as the survival of mankind itself was under threat, they would, in just a few years, send a starship on a one-way journey into deep space to find a new home for the survivors. The dimensions were staggering, and Ramon thought it all seemed surreal. Sloan from JPL again shook his head as he raised his concerns.
“I think everyone should be aware of the difficulties we’re looking at here. There are so many questions that need answering. Where do we find this planet? How can we be sure it has all the properties we need? And what about space flight? We haven’t even touched upon that. We’re not talking chemical rockets here; we have to come up with entirely new methods of propulsion, and fast! How fast? Is it at all possible to come up with a way to t
ravel to the stars? The engineering issues here are huge!” Havelar nodded at Sloan, a wide grin spreading across his face while his eyes got that look they often did when confronted with an obstacle no one quite knew how to handle.
“It’s all frontier work from here, folks.” He looked around, then at his watch, and smiled.
“I think we all need a break. This is a lot to take in, and I’d like us to address the issues one by one, or we’ll get nowhere.” Ramon and Isabella looked at each other. Isabella voiced a name with her lips, and Ramon found he’d been thinking about it, at least subconsciously, since he first heard what would happen on Earth in just a few years. Maria.
Chapter 4
February 2073 ~ New York City, New York
Ramon had the feeling that he didn’t belong; that he had no right to attend this meeting with so many highly qualified people. He didn’t have any qualifications whatsoever for all this, although that went for some of the others too. There were about fifteen people in the room back at the Havelar Industries headquarters, and apart from George Havelar and Ramon Solis, who represented the Consortium, Daniel Shaw, director of Project Exodus, and the science advisor, all the others were scientists and engineers. He recognized Dr. Grant and Dr. Sloan, but all the others were unknown to him. Their objective for today was to come up with the number of people that could be carried on a starship to create a new beginning for mankind. It was important that they hit the right balance between so many different factors; it had to be within the limits of engineering, and at the same time it had to be as big as possible, in order to make sure the colony would be able to sustain itself, once they reached the new world.
“So, where do we begin?” one of the engineers asked. Ramon had no idea. How many people were needed to create a viable population? One of the scientists obviously seemed to know a little about that, as she took charge of the discussion immediately.
“Let’s start by examining what kind of gene pool we need. That will give us a minimum number of people that would be able to breed.” She continued to explain how they needed a population of at least a hundred people, a number supported by several studies on genetic diversity.
“Of course, such a minimum presupposes that we are able to have maximum genetic diversity, which means no relatives, and a pure genetic selection not hampered with other concerns, like skills.” She paused for a second, as several of the attendees nodded knowingly.
“And if you think that’s unrealistic, there’s more. For a hundred people to be the nucleus of a healthy, genetically diverse breed of humans, there have to be no accidents. No illnesses, no early deaths. If cryo sleep were to have some kind of harmful side effects, or one of the shuttles crashed, or if we had a bad outbreak of influenza, that could seriously endanger the entire population. So in my view, a hundred people is the bare minimum, and it’s still too risky. I would go for double of that, at least.” As she leaned back, having said what she intended to say, Dr. Grant leaned forward.
“All right, so we have a minimum. Below that there ain’t much point, right? Of course, some of my colleagues might point out that we’ve never built anything larger than the thirty-man shuttle, and that anything big enough to carry 100-plus would need to be developed gradually and over years. Forget it, won’t happen. We’re breaking new ground here. In my view, what we need to do is think compartments. We build compartments, parts of the starship, which by themselves cannot exceed the maximum payload of a certain number of shuttle launches. Me make them as easy as possible to assemble, so that it could be done blindfolded if need be. All right, that’s an exaggeration, but you know what I mean. We spend whatever needs spending in order to be finished on time, right?” He eyed Ramon and Havelar briefly, before he continued. Of course. He and Havelar were there to make sure the others understood that, whatever the cost, it would not be an issue. Being used to operating on tight budgets was something they all had deeply internalized and a mode it took some effort to shed. But, in this instance, as long as the resources existed, they could spend them.
“Then we launch everything we’ve got, make sure it’s all locked into orbit, and then assemble everything in space. We don’t need to spend much time discussing a number, really. We have a minimum, and that’s all we need. If we’re able to launch enough modules for a population of two hundred, then we do that. If we’re able to get a population of a thousand, then we do that. My view is that we get as many as possible up there. That would make the population more versatile, able to stand losses, give them more of a chance to develop immunity to diseases, and so on. Then it would simply be a matter of calculating how many modules we can build and get up to orbit in time.” He paused then, looking around at the others.
“What do you say, folks? We all know there will be engineering and production difficulties, but this is the way to do it, right?” Some nodded fiercely, obviously agreeing, while others, mostly the engineers, seemed skeptical. The discussion that followed was mostly too technical for Ramon to follow, but he gradually found that he agreed with the grizzled old engineer, even though some of the others pointed out that building a starship even for a population of a hundred people was a daunting task that shouldn’t be complicated further with the possibility of several hundred additional passengers. It still stood to reason that the limit of what was possible wasn’t really the size of the ship, but the time they had at their disposal and the number of launches possible.
The meeting continued, with hours upon hours of discussion and checking all the facts they needed for making a halfway-qualified decision. They had to determine what each launch would entail in terms of routines and checks, and while allowing for setbacks, they also discussed what could be done to speed up the launch schedules, as they realistically would in a situation where quantity meant more than the possible risks involved in each individual launch. For hours this went on, until finally they came up with a number. Havelar, who during most of the day had been unusually quiet, now took charge.
“So we have a number. Sixteen hundred people. Now, I’d like to do some math with you all, to show you what that really means. I’m a business man, you know, so running numbers is something I can do.” That brought smiles and chuckles as Havelar brought up an old-fashioned drawing board so that everyone could see.
“Sixteen hundred people. In such a population, we could afford to bring some who won’t bear children, but would bring skills and expertise. Hopefully we’ll be able to have a decent reproduction rate, meaning that the population would double every forty years or so. That’s close to the reproduction rate they had in mainly agricultural, developing nations in the twentieth century. Although it may be a little high, with the proper incentives, such as more food on the table and more people to care for each other, and with land to develop, it may not be far from what we can expect.
“Sixteen hundred people.” He mused at the number he’d written in red capitals on the board.
“Doesn’t seem like much of a population for an entire world, now, does it? But the key here is exponential growth. Population growth could be compared to compound interest, and we all know the power of that, don’t we? Hell, I’ve made a living on that; I know how powerful that can be. So what kind of growth are we talking about here?” He started scribbling on the board, numbers of births per family, average life span for humans, numbers upon numbers.
“In 120 years, we’re talking about 12,800 people. Still not a lot, but again, this is exponential growth. More people are added than we take away from the equation. In 200 years, we’d have 51,200 people, and in 300 years, we’re talking more than 300,000 people. Add another hundred years, and there will be a million people on the new world. Isn’t that something?” Ramon was stunned. Of course, as a businessman, he did these same kinds of calculations every day, he just hadn’t thought about the fact that the same principles would apply here as well. What we’re doing here will actually give mankind a second chance, he thought. By saving a population of sixteen hundred, they could
have a million people alive within four hundred years of landing on the new world. It was a staggering number, and suddenly Ramon felt something he hadn’t felt much of since that meeting when they were told what would happen to Earth. Now he felt exhilarated and eager. Ramon realized that at this very moment he had just started believing there was still hope, after all. By God, if they could just find somewhere to settle, they could actually do this!
August 2073 ~ Near Roanoke, Virginia
It was late August. In Virginia’s humid summer air and sunny days, people usually took to the shade by day, coming out in the afternoons and evenings. Sitting on the terrace outside his friend’s cabin, Trevor Hayes could only marvel at the view. The sun was setting and cast a red-orange light that gave the lake a glow, as if the entire lake was on fire. It was truly magnificent. Mark came out and sat beside him, handing him a can of beer, fresh from the cooler.
“What do you think?” he said. “Like the view? Spent a fortune on it. Thought it would be worth it.”
Of course, they both knew it would come to an end. Mark Novak was one of the scientists brought in to work on Project Exodus. For the last few years, he’d been involved in medical research on how to sustain lower body temperatures to levels that halted metabolism. They had found that it would be entirely possible to sustain life for years, and their research had shown one of the side effects to be that the aging processes went into an almost dormant state. Aging wasn’t completely halted, but so far they were able to slow it by a factor of about one hundred. Originally this had been part of an experimental study to optimize conditions for prolonged surgery, but it had always been thought that “cryo-sleep” would be quite similar to this. Now it seemed the need had arisen for just that kind of expertise, with star flight suddenly no longer a remote possibility but a requirement for the survival of the human race.
Exodus (The Exodus Trilogy) Page 4