Geena Travis was a twenty-three-year-old girl, still in high school when she was picked for Selection five years ago. A pretty blonde, always with a smile on her face, and a positive outlook on life, she sometimes provoked people who didn’t share her attitudes. She had often been underestimated, based on that big smile, long blonde hair, and typical high school cheerleader appearance. Kenneth Taylor wouldn’t dream of making such a mistake. As a college professor, he’d often seen the most unlikely freshmen excel when put in an environment that reinforced their innate abilities. He’d seen assumingly mindless cheerleaders and high school losers go on to PhDs and astonishing careers in business, academia, or government. As he’d gotten to know her better, he’d discovered a keen mind and a talent for coming up with creative answers to questions that most candidates had to struggle hard to figure out. In addition to an athletic body that would stand more rigors than he’d only dreamed of coping with, and a psychological makeup that would make her less prone to depression in the face of adversity or even disaster, she was surely a top candidate.
“That right?” Taylor answered.
“I really thought she was going to make it. She seemed the type.” They both hunched their shoulders, taking another sip of coffee, and Taylor discovered he’d eaten most of his cake too. Typical me, he thought. I always get too distracted to really enjoy the pleasures of life, like this cake.
“Yeah,” Geena continued. “You never really know what they are looking for. Or what their selection criteria are. Who knows, we might be next.” Her cheerful disposition didn’t allow for her to dwell on things like that, and it only took about ten seconds before she changed the subject.
“You know, I don’t think Devastator means the end of the world. I think it just means some sort of cleansing, a new chance. Nothing like the cultists say,” she hastily added. “I am a Christian, you know, sort of anyway, but that kind of BS doesn’t have anything to do with Christianity, if you ask me. God’s punishment and all that.” She shook her head and peered into her empty cup. When she spoke again, it was a little strained.
“No, I think it will be a nightmare. And that a lot of people, most I guess, will die. But some will survive. I have to believe that. We all have to believe that. And from there, anything could happen.” Taylor smiled sadly at her. He very much wanted to believe the same. He knew that she knew of the latest predictions. He just didn’t have as much faith as she did. She was determined to keep her belief that some good had to come out of this, even here on Earth. His hopes, on the other hand, lay in the possibility of a better world on Aurora.
They rose and walked back to H Building to meet their team. They had individual tests tomorrow, so there was no need to work together. Just as well, Taylor thought. The others seemed much too concerned with the competition than with the actual tasks at hand. As they entered the apartment they shared, they saw that only Hans Kleve, the Danish shuttle pilot, remained. There were no sign of the others, or their belongings.
“Where are …” Geena was interrupted by Hans, who waved her off.
“The instructors came just fifteen minutes ago and took them away. They didn’t give an explanation.” He sat slumped on the couch. He’d just lost two of his best buddies and seemed to believe he was next in line. He’d never excelled at anything, but his team had been a good one for a long time now. Taylor suspected that it was mostly due to Geena and didn’t mourn the loss. Of course, that was something he didn’t state out loud.
“I’m sorry, Hans. I know how much they meant to you.” Hans just stared emptily at the open door, as if waiting for the instructors to come barging in to carry him off. Away from his one chance to live. Taylor knew in his heart that it was actually the most likely outcome for him.
Chapter 8
November 2079 ~ Somewhere in Arizona
When they decided on a name for the starship, they had considered several alternatives. In the end, it only seemed fitting to keep the name of the project itself. Everything they had worked toward, their entire focus was the creation of their means for escape… and survival: the starship. So, even though it still only existed in parts and modules orbiting the Earth, the ship was named the Exodus. Captain Tina Hammer thought it was a good name, because it carried the entire story of the massive endeavor: from despair, to escape, and finally hope. As she checked the few personal belongings she had packed, one last time, she could hear the rumble of artillery in the distance. Sometimes she could feel the shaking from an impact nearby. There were thousands of armed attackers surrounding the launch site, and some Army and Air Force contingents had even joined with the rebels. Those of the Air Force had been swiftly dealt with, and although they had been able to shoot down two of the launches, there were no enemy planes in the air any more. However, the loyal troops had taken quite a beating, and the frontlines had gradually crept closer to the compound during the last week. Its fall seemed inevitable; it was just a question of time now. Tina had serious doubts about whether they would be able to hold off the insurgents long enough for the last few launches to be completed.
This morning, the fighting seemed particularly fierce, and she hurried over to the bus that would take her to the pre-launch facility, where she would be prepped for launch, together with the others who were to be sent up into orbit today. There would be about thirty this time, in a shuttle crammed to the limit, as the final launches had been expedited to account for the fact that they were losing ground to the rebels. Tina knew there were three more launches scheduled, but hers was the last manned shuttle. They were only able to launch one mission a day, and although at times there had been as many as three or four launches a day, it was still a staggering efficiency, compared to earlier practices. Of course, that also entailed a higher risk, as the ground crews were all exhausted, working around the clock to keep this schedule. She could only admire them; they had no ticket out of here, and their prospects when the compound was overrun were bleak.
The bus took them out from the housing facilities and on a thirty-minute ride to pre-launch. The route took them a little too close to the frontlines for her to feel comfortable. She’d seen combat before, but this was different. This was America, and on both sides were desperate Americans firing at each other. She shook her head at the idea, which just a few months ago had seemed impossible.
The air was filled with smoke, and visibility was only a few meters. Coming around a bend, suddenly the bus was forced to stop, held at gunpoint by armed men wearing gas masks. They were uniformed, and although that didn’t count for much these days, they seemed disciplined enough. The passengers were briskly commanded to exit the vehicle, and inspected in a thorough but expedient manner.
“All right,” said a masked man with chevrons on his sleeves. “You can continue, but you’d better hurry up. The lines are breaching in this area, and this road will be overrun in a few hours. There have been several attempts at infiltration, and yesterday a bus rigged with a bomb went off just before it reached pre-launch.”
“Why would anybody do that, Sergeant?” Tina said as she passed him walking back to her seat. “They seem desperate, of course, but blowing up the launch facilities would only ensure that no one gets out.” She was puzzled by the news, and the sergeant nodded.
“That’s right, ma’am, but the rebels are a mix of all kinds. Most of them wouldn’t dream of harming the facility, although we are fair game. But there are some, especially the extreme religious folks, that believe the launches should be stopped because of God’s will or something. They seem to believe that all this is God’s righteous punishment or something. And that we should just accept it and pray for a miracle.” The sergeant shook his head. “Damn fools …”
“Well, praying for miracles wouldn’t hurt I guess, but let’s keep it at that.” Tina managed a strained smile before reentering the bus. She had a deep respect for those men and women who would most likely never make it through the day, but still performed their duties, to make sure that Project Exodus made it
into the next phase.
The next phase, of course, would consist of all modules of the Exodus assembled in orbit, a process that was estimated to take approximately six months to complete. Only then would the crew and passengers board the ship that would be their home for 165 years until they reached Aurora. The launch schedule had been set up so that all critical parts had already been put into orbit. They had always suspected this kind of situation, hence the heavy military presence and a launch schedule that allowed for losses, without it seriously damaging the mission.
Tina suspected that hers might turn out to be the last launch, and she wasn’t even sure there would be enough time for that. She could only hope the lines would hold long enough, but they had cut the time prior to launch to the bone, there was simply no way to make it any faster. They needed two hours in the pre-launch facility, then they would board the shuttle, which took about an hour, and then finally there would be a fifteen-minute countdown before launch. Her experience and instincts told her that there would be no tomorrow for the soldiers she’d just talked to, and that the launch facilities wouldn’t survive the takeover by rebels. Too many heavily armed and trigger-happy people with nothing to lose, drugs and alcohol in abundance, and probably no established chain of command. The damage and killings would be unchecked, there would be no purpose left for them but rampant destruction.
They arrived twenty minutes late, and she was hurried along into pre-launch. There she went through her final medical checkup, and was quickly outfitted and readied for launch. She saw one of her buddies from Selection when she entered the bridge that took her the last stretch over to the shuttle. It was Lieutenant Henry Carroll, and they nodded to each other. She didn’t know who else would be on the same shuttle, as they had been separated for almost a year, but she knew that Kim Leffard and Dean Johnson had been on one of the first launches and were already in orbit. Entering the shuttle, she recognized another two faces; Lowell, the geology professor, and a young girl with Latino features whose name she didn’t remember. They were all strapped in, and then all they could do was wait for countdown to commence.
The launch was successful and there were no problems during their flight to orbit. A few hours later, they lost radio contact with the launch pad, but based on the last messages received, they all knew the compound had been overrun. Tina thought about the last frenzied effort of the workers down there that had made her launch possible. As a veteran of more than one conflict, she’d often been called a hero, but the way she saw it, the real heroes were those workers. She could only hope they would be spared, but she didn’t expect it.
November 2079 ~ Earth orbit
A week went by, and Tina had just started reading a big chunk of documents she needed to go through before they were to board the Exodus. As the executive officer of the starship, she had to be ready at all times to assume command, as she was the replacement for the commander himself whenever he was away from the bridge or had to delegate responsibilities. They were still stuck in the shuttle though; it would be some time before they could enter the starship itself, it was still being assembled by hundreds of workers and quite a few bots at the moment, so she had plenty of reading time on her hands. They were just settling into their routines as a surprising call came through the comms system. It was a kid’s voice.
“This is the New Discovery, final launch from ... uhm … anyways, we’re on autopilot or something, and we need to … ah, slave to you, I think it’s called.” What the kid was describing was an automated procedure that allowed two shuttles to dock, where one would slave its systems and be controlled by the other, in order to synchronize their approach. The shuttle pilot, Lieutenant Frank Pollock, answered, and though he looked every bit as puzzled as the rest of them, his voice was as steady as ever.
“This is Lieutenant Pollock of the San Francisco, we read you loud and clear. Please identify yourself, son.” There was a moment of silence before the kid answered.
“Ah, this is Ben, ah, Benjamin Waters, sir. What do you need me to do?”
“I’ll need your docking codes. You’ll find them on the left of the main screen, four words and an eight-digit number. I need to punch those manually into the computer here. Then we’ll take over and do the rest.”
Later, as the shuttles were connected, and the hatch of the New Discovery opened, Tina and the others were both curious and anxious as to what would happen. She feared there might be armed men on board, but the fact that it had been a kid manning the shuttle suggested that there would be no adults there at all. And when the kids flowed through the hatch, she could clearly see that they were all just children, from the age of six and up through sixteen or seventeen. There were thirty-five kids on the shuttle, and while they exceeded the shuttle’s limit as to numbers, their ages made several of them so light that the total weight limit had held.
Benjamin Waters was the oldest at seventeen; he had naturally taken charge. He seemed like the natural leader, although his age made him insecure when meeting those on the San Francisco, being captains, lieutenants, professors, and so on. He told them the amazing tale of how they had ended up on the shuttle.
“Some of these kids are children of rebel leaders, while others are here mostly by chance. I was rounded up by the rebels two months ago, and conscripted, sort of, to lead a squad of younger kids. We were supposed to carry ammunitions for the artillery, and although we were lucky, not just cannon fodder at the front, we lost one kid, a fifteen-year-old girl called Wendy, to an air raid three weeks ago. It was bad, really bad …” Tina could see the boy struggled when he recalled the memories, but Ben, as he was called, managed to keep his emotions in check.
“Well, anyways, when I arrived at the compound, it had been a few hours since we took it. A lot of people died that day … But one of the leaders, General Hayden, had ordered the launch facility and staff to be spared, and put a death penalty, like shoot on sight, on those who dared disobey that order. He was serious about it too, and even shot two men himself for trying to rape a female technician.” He shuddered and closed his eyes for a second before he continued.
“That order saved a lot of lives though, and the facility stayed mostly unscathed. Of course, in the heat of battle, there had been some damages, so we were only able to get one of the remaining shuttles launch capable.
“The general said our mission was to save some of the future, and that getting a small number of children away was the only reason he had for breaking his allegiances. He said it was the reason he had joined forces with the rebels in the first place. He picked kids, mostly at random, although his daughter Lisa is on board too, to be sent, and I have no idea how I could be even considered for this. I’ve never done anything technical, and up until the rebels overran my hometown, I was just a high school kid. I never wanted to be in charge of anything, but the general put me in charge. I don’t know why, I never wanted …” Tina saw Ben shake and shut his eyes, losing the battle against the memories walled in by necessity. She’d seen it so many times, in hardened soldiers and people forced into situations that demanded a cool that was unnatural for them.
“I just want you to know that we never wanted all this, all the killing … Anyways, it took a week to get ready for launch, and by that time, things had calmed down. It seemed there was some kind of truce, so there were no air raids on the facility either. I guess the Air Force had been told about the general’s intention to put kids into the shuttle, and they probably thought it was a good idea too. I don’t think anybody fully understood how the smaller kids would react though. Since we’ve been strapped in the shuttle, me and some of the other older kids have been busy trying to calm the younger kids. Some went hysterical right away; others went sick and puked all the way up. Right now, I think most of them are just too exhausted to scream or anything. Frankly, I’m afraid some of them are permanently damaged by all this. But I guess when it’s all about survival, then … Well, I mean … The adults probably knew it would be hard on the kids. But it’s b
etter than staying down there, right?
“Anyways, I know there weren’t supposed to be any more manned launches, so I guess us being here is a problem …” Tina interrupted him and placed a hand on his shoulder.
“It’s okay, Ben. You can relax now. We do have a challenge, with more passengers and less supplies, but we’ll deal with that. You’re coming to Aurora with us, and we’re all in this together now.” Then she smiled at him.
“You seem like a good kid, and I for one welcome you on board. I think you’ve done great, and you shouldn’t be blamed for other people’s actions. You shouldn’t blame yourself either. That’s important.” The others nodded in agreement. The additional passengers did pose a serious difficulty, but they would handle it somehow. Right now they were all safe, at least for the time being.
January 2080 ~ Earth orbit
Greg Hamilton, admiral and commander of the Exodus, was a graying man of fifty-two years, who had never had any family since he left his foster home at the age of sixteen to join the Navy. Even so, he had come to understand the importance of family and why family made people make decisions that weren’t always fully rational. Right now, he had the consequences of one such decision to deal with. At the moment, orbiting Earth while final preparations were being made, his problem was that there were more people on board than they had planned for.
“Okay then, give me the numbers again,” he said while going through the latest calculations on his tablet. The executive officer, Major Tina Hammer, had her own tablet, and once more recited the numbers. Total fuel resources, acceleration fuel consumption, estimated oxygen reproduction rate, and so on.
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