Callisto Deception

by John Read

  She thought of pacifist societies, and what happened to them. The Acadians in Nova Scotia, during the war between the England and France, were French-speaking farmers who refused to swear loyalty to either side. The Acadians were rounded up like cattle, imprisoned in ships for months, and then dumped as far south as Louisiana.

  Marie scrolled through the fine print, words that H3 had dictated only minutes earlier. H3 had been meticulous in his appeal, itemizing command structures, logistics, and hardware in great detail; the entire proposition exceeded 5,000 words. As the votes rolled in, she concluded that few citizens had read the entire document.

  Several pages in, hidden in the middle of a sub-paragraph, there was a note labeled “Security of the government”. H3 had requested personal security guards for select members of the council. What is he afraid of?

  The screen behind Hoshi displayed three columns: yea, nay, abstain. The “yea” column climbed almost immediately to eighty percent.

  Marie slid the screen back into her watch; her vote wouldn’t make a difference. The people would have their army. By the end of the day, 400 people had signed up for the CDF.

  23

  “Hey, Marie!” cried a male voice.

  Marie turned, having just stepped out of a coffee shop in Newport, and saw Malcom jogging toward her. “You’re working for H3, right?”

  “Yeah, why?” Marie said, still skeptical of the man who’d deceived her back on Earth. She took a small sip of coffee, testing its temperature.

  “We’ve made some progress. I mean, we’re going to contact Earth, well sort of.” He took a break. “The moon, we’re going to call the moon, Earth’s moon.”

  “Slow down,” Marie said. “What are you talking about? I thought all the radio frequencies were jammed.” She turned to face him.

  “The frequencies are only jammed around Earth. But that’s not the reason we haven’t sent out signal. If we send out a radio signal, any radio signal, we’ll be broadcasting to the entire solar system.”

  “And that’s bad, why?” Marie said.

  “We don’t know what the Alliance, or the AI, knows about us, and we want to keep new information to a minimum.”

  “So, you’re looking for permission to send a signal? Good luck with that.”

  “No, no that’s not it at all,” Malcom said. “According to Hoshi, the Doomsdayers left a small group of people on the moon. They’re the ones in charge of quarantining Earth. But we’ve never been in contact with them, as there’s never been a need.”

  “Is there a need now?” Marie asked.

  “Yes, for those of us who want an update on Earth, they’re the best people to ask.”

  “Okay, but you just said you can’t send them a message”

  “No, I said the radio frequencies are jammed. We can still send a message optically.”

  “Optically?”

  “Using lasers,” Malcom replied. “Usually, you send a regular radio pulse first, to let the receiver know a laser transmission is pending. Once they receive that signal, they align a detector in the direction of the pulse.”

  “So, they have to be listening,” Marie said. “Are they listening?”

  “We don’t know. Hoshi says they’re not, but what if they are? Huey and I are planning to give it a try. We’ll send the message out blind, in hopes someone is listening.”

  “Have you sent any messages yet?”

  “We’re still refining the coordinates.”

  “How long?”

  “An hour, at most,” Malcom said. “I was hoping H3 would be supportive.”

  “You’re worried that Hoshi will try to stop you,” Marie said.

  “Exactly. That’s why we’ve waited until the last minute to tell anyone.”

  “This is the most progress anyone’s made toward contacting Earth,” Marie said. A tiny flutter of hope brushed the inside of her ribs. Earth. John.

  “This is the only progress,” Malcom said. “We’re set up in the mudroom, just inside the airlock. Come as soon as you can.”

  Malcom turned, and walked toward the habitat’s northern wall.

  Marie turned, crossed the street, and climbed the stairs of the capitol building. She walked to H3’s office. His new security detail greeted her at the door. They wore tan uniforms and side arms. H3 had chosen the toughest and biggest recruits for his private security, and it made Marie uncomfortable.

  H3 was in his office. He looked up from his desk as she walked in. They were getting used to working together, and he no longer smiled. “Yes?” he said.

  “An acquaintance of mine is going to send a message to the lunar colony. He thought you’d like to know.”

  “Really?” H3 said. “Where is this acquaintance?”

  “They’ve set up a communication station at the airlock. They call it ‘the mudroom’”

  H3 stood up, and buttoned the top button on his blazer. He marched to the door, motioning to Marie to follow him.

  “Gentlemen,” H3 said to his security detail. “Could one of you please get me a coffee? Venti, please.”

  Malcom had set up a receiving station in a loft near the ceiling. Huey was there as well, up on a ladder feeding some cable into the panel in the roof.

  “There’s a transmitter outside, right above us, and we can control it from here,” Malcom said. “Most of the comm unit was gutted when we arrived; whoever was here before us took it with them when they left.”

  Huey whistled, getting everyone’s attention, and then gave a thumbs-up to Malcom.

  “Don’t expect a quick reply.”

  “We’re aware of the communications delay,” H3 said, taking a sip from the large coffee mug he was holding. “Carry on.”

  H3’s guards paced around the room, inspecting the equipment, but otherwise staying out of the way.

  Malcom picked up a microphone from the table, and pressed the transmit button. “Lunar station, lunar station, this is Callisto calling. We are survivors from Earth, if anyone can hear this, please reply. Direct an optical transmission to Callisto, I repeat, the Jovian moon, Callisto.” He released the transmit button and took a breath.

  “Turn it off,” H3 said. Malcom looked at him, confused.

  “What?” Marie said.

  “I’ve decided not to let anyone continue with the communication project,” H3 said.

  “Why?” Marie asked.

  “It’s too risky,” H3 replied.

  “But what about contacting Earth?”

  “We’ll make contact with Earth via a reconnaissance mission when we’re ready. I’ll not risk the lives of those here in the colony.”

  “Screw that,” Malcom said, then pressed the transmitter.

  “This is Callisto station, I may not have a lot of time, a man named H—”

  H3 reached over and switched off the transmitter.

  “Three,” Malcom finished. “What the hell!” He stood and faced H3 as if ready to throw a punch.

  “You can’t be serious?” Marie said.

  “I’m dead serious,” H3 said. “Matthews?” He gestured to one of his guards.

  “Yes, sir?” the man responded.

  “Take this equipment and dump it in the nearest recycolizer.”

  “Now listen here,” Malcom said. “We’ve worked hard on this, and I won’t let you destroy everything we’ve worked for.”

  The guards took a step closer to Malcom.

  Malcom continued, “You don’t have the authority to stop us. If need be, give the colonists a chance to vote. It should be up to them as to whether this risk is justified.”

  “I don’t think you understand,” H3 said with cold authority. “Power lies with those who take action.” H3 took his cup, pulled off the lid, and poured the entire contents all over the equipment.

  Popping sounds emanated from the motherboard as connections short circuited. The screen on the computer display flickered, and went blank.

  “You son of a bitch,” Malcom yelled, and took a swing at H3. He st
epped back in one easy motion, face inscrutable, eyes narrowed. Matthews reached out, and grabbed Malcom’s fist, twisting his arm behind his back. Huey, who was now down off the ladder, ran over to help his friend, but H3’s other guard grabbed him by the collar and forced him over the table.

  “Henry!” Marie cried, grabbing H3 by the shoulder. It felt hard as stone, and did not bend at her touch.

  H3 growled, “I won’t stand for unnecessary violence in my colony.”

  “What are you doing?” Marie shrieked.

  H3 breathed heavily through his nose, and stared at the floor for a moment, as if trying to rein himself in. When he straightened, the mask of his face was smooth and urbane once more. He nodded at Marie and motioned to his guards to release Malcom and Huey.

  “I apologize,” H3 said in a tone now lacking any hint of menace. “I overreacted. I don’t respond well to threats of violence.”

  Marie stared at her boss uncertainly, a chill uncoiling in her stomach. Who is this guy, really?

  24

  A half billion miles from the sun, Jupiter’s gravity began reeling us in like a fish on a line. Our VASRM engines fought the pull with steady persistence as we arced into a trans-Jovian-injection orbit.

  All of this happened without human intervention. The ships followed a trajectory planned weeks ago. We were caught off guard when Taylor recommended we switch to augmented reality. The thought of leaving VR was strange after so much time inside. I now understood why people got addicted. Virtual Reality was utopia. The human mind handled this like a drug, wanting more and more immersion. It had been our home for the past several weeks, and I knew we’d miss it once it was gone.

  I brought up the spacecraft’s main menu, and made the switch to AR. Activating the JJ’s external cameras granted a 360-degree view of space.

  Jupiter hung to my right like a giant marble. At over sixteen million kilometers distant, I could practically reach out and touch it. The planet fit between my thumb and forefinger; its four largest moons orbited nearby like pearls on an invisible necklace.

  Io orbited nearest to the giant gas planet. Volcanoes on its surface accented a sea of swirling pigment, where oranges, yellows, and pinks mixed together like paint on a pallet.

  Europa floated further out; hexagonal ice plates covered its surface in a mosaic. Below, an underground sea swirled with twice the water of Earth’s oceans. Twenty years ago, NASA planned to send a submersible to Europa’s watery depths, but the mission was never funded. For the past two decades, only mining corporations had ventured this far into space.

  The giant grey moon of Ganymede was next, the largest of Jupiter’s moons. It looked quite a lot like Earth’s moon, except for the Texas-sized ice cap accenting its southern hemisphere like a tattoo.

  I had to crank my neck far to the right to see Callisto, the smallest of the large moons. At this distance, it looked like a bright star moving against a fixed background. We were closing in.

  “Orbital insertion in progress,” Tayler radioed. My spacecraft yawed, directing its thrusters for the maneuver.

  Callisto grew as we curved in to meet it. Indicator lights flashed on my AR console, but I ignored them. The insertion had been preprogramed before we’d even left the moon.

  My little ship rumbled as chemical thrusters came online, augmenting the ion engines that burned at high specific-impulse for the duration of our journey. The chemical thrusters would consume more hydrazine in the next ten minutes than had the nuclear-powered xenon ion engines during the entire trip to Jupiter.

  Callisto grew larger until we could see every crater. Its surface was a dirty brown from pure iron oxide, the element that made this moon such a valuable target. The craters were white, proof that underneath the surface, much of the world was composed primarily of pure water ice, the lifeblood of any manned colony.

  Thrusters powered down as the Jupiter Jumpers entered orbit sixty-four kilometers above the surface. We circumnavigated the equator, passing into Callisto’s shadow. As the ships wrapped around the small world, we witnessed our first Callisto sunrise, crossing the terminator into day.

  “There it is!” I heard Amelia shout.

  “Where?” I asked.

  “See that row of white craters? You can make out the Ring along the equator.”

  I put my hands up as if framing a photograph, then pulled them apart. The computer recognized the gesture and zoomed in where Amelia had mentioned.

  Even with magnification, the Callisto Ring was barely visible, but two sets of constructor tracks gave it away. Spaced three kilometers apart, the rails stretched out to the horizon. The Ring colony lay in between. Its roof had been colored to blend with the surroundings, right down to the white craters.

  We’d continued for 1,609 kilometers over the Ring when the tracks stopped. Then I saw it, the device that made it all possible: The Universal Constructor.

  “It looks abandoned,” I said.

  “It’s cool,” Kevin said. “I mean literally, it’s cold. Aside from the decaying uranium in the reactors, thermal scans come up negative. If there were people inside the machine, we’d know.”

  “If it’s abandoned, we’re probably looking at the best place on the Ring for egress,” I said.

  “Agreed. Initiating landing sequence,” Tayler radioed. “I’m setting us down near the machine.”

  Retro rockets on my JJ fired and once more, G forces pressed my body against the resistor suit. My stomach lurched as we began our descent.

  Below us, the three-kilometer-wide machine drew closer. The machine itself was a marvel. An array of silos lined the leading edge like hoppers in a brewery. Spinning disks lined its front, ready to carve up the rock ahead of it, while pipes directed the slag to the north and south of the Ring. On the machine’s roof, structural components rested on conveyors. Robotic riveters and welding arms were ready to secure each new component to the Ring.

  “The machine was nuclear powered, but I don’t see any radiators,” I said. “Where do they get rid of the excess heat?”

  “They pump it inside,” Kevin answered. “Unlike Europa, Callisto doesn’t have much tidal heating. There’s no reason to vent the energy back into space.”

  I kept my eye on the machine as we landed half a kilometer to the south. Jupiter hung in the night sky like a Chinese lantern, giving everything a peculiar brownish- yellow glow.

  We landed in the slag, the gravely leftovers from the dredging process of the Santa Claus Machine used to construct the Ring.

  The augmented view of my surroundings disappeared, and for the first time in months I saw the sphere that had been my home. The suit released its magnetic hold on my body and I peeled it off, piece by piece.

  Under gravity now, I moved freely in the sphere, wearing nothing but the fancy underwear. I ripped out the I.V. like a mother pulling off a Band-Aid. “Goddammit!” I yelled. The IV was more than a needle and had extended deep into my arm.

  I took a deep breath and removed the catheters, expecting an equal amount of pain. Fortunately, because of our diet, we didn’t make much number two during the trip. The special fluid we drank was designed to keep our stomach and digestive tracts in optimal condition. The catheter removal was less painful than I’d expected.

  The sphere contained a storage unit where I found a NASA jumpsuit. A larger compartment held my spacesuit.

  I put on the jumpsuit and then donned the spacesuit. With a systems check complete, I ordered the computer to decompress the cabin and open the door.

  The seven others were already outside. Avro and Singer worked together, placing supplies on each other’s backs. Rifles and rope hung off their oxygen tanks. They looked off balance but didn’t fall, their suit’s gyroscopes keeping them level.

  Kevin joined me, and helped open a side panel on my ship. I retrieved my rifle, and Kevin placed it on my back like He-Man’s sword.

  “Anyone need any help?” I said, as Kevin and I joined the rest of the crew.

  “Nice of y
ou to join us,” Serene said.

  “Nice to be here. It’s been a while,” I joked.

  “Come with me,” Serene said. “We’ll clear a path for the boys with the gear. Here, put this on.” She handed me a harness. “For rappelling.” She tossed one to Kevin as well.

  “Thanks,” I said, grabbing the harness and pulling it to my waist. We’d trained for this. If we had to break into the Ring, we knew it would probably be from above.

  I took a few steps. The ground didn’t quite feel right. It was almost too smooth.

  “What’s with the ground?” I asked.

  “Solar polymer,” Kevin answered. “Spray on solar panels, to supplement the nuclear reactors.”

  “Why didn’t we use this on Mars again?” The question was rhetorical. This stuff only worked in a vacuum.

  Avro, Singer, and Nash carried the bulk of the supplies, mostly extra guns and ammo. Amelia and Tayler carried packs filled with rations. Serene and I carried the rope. Kevin carried only a tablet, which he stared at, not paying attention to where he was going. Maybe the others thought him rude, but I could see his wheels turning. He was probably working on a plan that would save us a lot of hassle.

  “That thing can move at what, two-and-a-half centimeters every second?’ Avro said as we got closer.

  “I’d say that’s about right,” Tayler replied.

  “Two hundred and nineteen-thousand, four hundred and fifty-six centimeters per day,” Kevin said, glancing up from his tablet. “Just over one-point-six kilometers.”

  “So, five hundred and sixty-three kilometers per year,” I said. “Impressive.” I climbed over a large rock as we neared the constructor. Turning around, I offered a hand to Serene, which she grabbed, and I hoisted her up. This was the first time I’d held her real hand. It gave me a familiar sensation, like my first kiss in the sixth grade. Or holding hands with Marie on our first date. Nice!