James Wittenbach - Worlds Apart 03

by Bodicea

  He motioned with his arm for the party to follow him toward the largest structure, which was in the center. It was a circular structure with straight walls and a domed roof. Large round windows circled the outside walls in four staggered rows.

  Keeler led his crew through another, secondary airlock, and into the big round structure.

  The inside was plain, institutional in appearance, with walls that had once been painted a dull, medium gray, though it was hard to tell through the yellow-tinged atmosphere. He consulted a map of the internal structure that Pegasus had made from probe data and quickly found the course he wanted. He led them down another institutional passageway and into a large, half-oval chamber. The walls of this room were lined with banks of machines and displays. These were in the Commonwealth style, simple dark boxes and panels with little buttons and displays, silent and dark now. Seats (formed of padded H-shaped seats joined to V-shaped backs mounted on top of spindly, wheeled bases) were arranged in the center around two large tables, each with an individual display in front. The focus of the room was a large display screen, three meters tall and five wide, surrounded by an array of colored lights (currently inactive, of course.) The controls, and the lettering around them, were unreadable, but recognizable as two of the ancient human alphabets. This had been the Command Center of Moonbase Whatever-They-Called-Their-Moon.

  Keeler crossed to the large chair at the center of the room. From here, the base commander had once surveyed his empire, had once welcomed ships from across the galaxy, had once answered communiqués from the very center of human civilization, possibly from Earth herself. Unfortunately, Pegasus had found no sign of a TPT antenna. It would have been nice to be able to talk to the homeworlds.

  “Did I ever mention,” Keeler communicated to Specialist David Alkema, as usual, on his commander’s right arm, two steps behind. “That my great-great-et cetera grandfather, Jojo Keeler led the first expedition to the Hyperion Moonbase during the Renaissance?”

  “Neg, sir, I didn’t know that.”

  “When they entered the ancient command center, a bucket of lubricant fell all over one of the Mission Specialists. Before abandoning the base, the ancient crew had positioned the bucket over one of the hatchways. Later on, they found a table where they had arranged empty environmental suits to look like they were playing poker. One of them was even cheating.” Keeler sniffed, beneath his mask, a tear had formed in one of his eyes. “They were Sapphireans to the end. God bless them.”

  “I don’t think the crew of this moonbase shared that sensibility,” Alkema said. “This place seems immaculate.”

  “Have you ever been the Old Hyperion Base?”

  “I went there on a Field Trip when I was about twelve. It looked a lot like this.” He dusted off one of the consoles and attached a hand-held device to it. “Just as I feared.”

  “What?”

  “All the records were stored in an electronic matrix. When the energy cells died, all the stored data was lost. Those cells only lasted about a thousand years after they abandoned the base.”

  Keeler frowned. That was disappointing, but part of him had expected it. “How is structural integrity. Could we restore a breathable atmosphere in here? It would make it easier to work.”

  “Possibly, you would still want to wear a mask though. There’s a high concentration of sulfur in what passes for an atmosphere, here.”

  “Planet Stinky,” said Keeler. He put his voice onto an all-party channel. “O.K., team, lets begin mapping this facility. Lieutenant Alkema …”

  “Specialist Alkema, sir.”

  “Specialist Alkema and I will remain here, in what was, in ancient times, the Command Center. Team one, try to locate the Engineering Facility or Main Power Plant. Team Two, try to locate a central Brain Core or Data Storage area. Team three, move out toward the Hanger Bays. If any of you find something interesting, check in. Go to.” As his team shuffled out, he tapped his communicator again for an addendum.

  “Remember, if you do find artifacts, tag them and leave them in place. Make a holographic image of the area, showing precisely where you found them. Don’t disturb anything if you can avoid it. Keep your eyes open for personal effects, logs, and examples of Commonwealth Era technology.”

  When they had gone, he looked around the Command Center again. How cold and silent it war, he thought. After determining that the command seat would not be disturbed if he sat in it, Keeler sat in it, and surveyed it as the ancient Base Commander would have.

  Alkema set a data pad on one of the console stations and activated a three dimensional map of the entire base. “We can track the progress of the survey teams from here. There’s about 990,000 sq. meters of space in the complex, not including the landing pads. There’s another team standing by on Pegasus. Should I send the ‘Go’ signal?”

  “Go to,” Keeler answered, settling in. “After Team Three is finished with Engineering, I would like to see the medical facilities.” He highlighted several areas on the screen. “They could be in this area, or in this area, possibly both. I would also be very interested to see if there are any science labs. That’s where we found the most artifacts on Hyperion. The science labs on Hyperion were deep underground. This base only extends four levels under the surface, and they all look like storage areas. On the other hand, if they weren’t cleaned out before the base was evacuated, we may find interesting things there as well. Perhaps cargo from distant colonies.” Keeler was hoping when Pegasus reached the rendezvous point with the re-supply ship, about a year from now, he would be able to send back enough material to add a wing to the Commonwealth Museum in New Cleveland. The Commonwealth Museum in Corvallis currently had the largest collection of colonial-era artifacts on the planet, and he was determined to beat those arrogant bastards.

  “Were will we deploy the next team when they get here?” Alkema asked.

  “I want to bring the next team to go through the crew quarters, most likely located in this structure here, and this adjacent structure. Notice the number, size, and uniform layout of chambers. There might have been two hundred humans living in this base at one time. If we’re lucky, we’ll find some personal effects, something to tell us how these people lived, what their lives were like.”

  “This base is about a third as large as the Old Hyperion base. Same number of landing pads. One would expect it to have had accommodated the same level of traffic. It would make sense. Esmerelda is a very appealing world. Moderate climate, fertile biosphere, very pretty, even from space. It would have been as attractive a destination as Sapphire. It’s curious that in all the centuries records were kept, we have only one ship traveling from Esmerelda to Sapphire. I wonder why that was. Maybe once they got to Esmerelda, they never wanted to go any further.”

  “Maybe only one record survived. There could have been more,” Alkema suggested,

  “True, history plays some curious games. There could be a wonderful colony right in our own backyard that we don’t even know about simply because no record survived. I wish there were some records here. I hope there still are. Have you ever wondered what might happen if Pegasus visited every world on our itinerary, and none of them could tell us of any more colonies that we did not know about? What would we do then?”

  “I don’t know,” Alkema answered. “Wouldn’t it take something like three hundred years to visit every world on our itinerary?”

  “Good point.”

  “Commander Keeler,” came a voice on his exterior link. “I have a communication link from Executive Commander Lear on the planet’s surface.”

  “Thanks, Queequeg. Put her through to me and Dave, keep my response signal on audio only.”

  “You got it, boss.”

  Lear’s face appeared in a window that gave it the illusion of being projected two meters in front of his eyepiece. In fact, only he could see it. “Commander Keeler, this is Executive Commander Lear, I have a report on our initial contact.”

  “I receive your signal, Execu
tive Commander. Report.”

  “First of all, the inhabitants of this world, which they call ‘Bodicéa,’ have survived and produced an intact, cohesive, and united society on a planetary scale. While technologically inferior to us, they possess a high degree of social cohesion, and are receptive to further contacts with us. I am meeting currently with planetary leadership to determine the next step.”

  “Sounds good so far.”

  “They are terribly protective of their culture. They do not want us to announce our presence to the general population, and whether or not to continue discussions with us at the leadership level has been the topic of pointed debate.”

  “That doesn’t sound so good. Why the xenophobia?”

  “There was a catastrophe back in the Colonial Era, the full details are in my written report.

  As a result, they have developed a very distinct and very insular culture. They have an understandable concern about the delicate balance of their culture being upset by our arrival.”

  Keeler thought Substitute “irrational” for “understandable” and I follow your reasoning. “How do you suggest we overcome their concerns?”

  “We are negotiating the terms for limited contact. Myself and Specialist Armatrading will accompany the leadership to another location. The others are to remain here as guests of the Government. If I can negotiate an agreement, you will probably be able to meet with them sometime in the next two days.”

  “I’ll have my dress uniform cleaned. It still has mustard stains on it from the Co-Ed Nude Wally Ball tournament we didn’t invite you to.”

  Lear twitched visibly. “Commander, when you meet with planetary leadership, I strongly suggest you refrain from making some of your more colorful comments.”

  “Why, is planetary leadership very …” he searched his mind for a diplomatic synonym to

  “tight-assed.” “… easily offended?”

  “One never knows when an ill-considered comment is going to offend. You must also bear in mind, ninety-five percent of this planet’s population is female, and the leadership is entirely female.”

  Keeler was silent for a moment. “Really?”

  “It is, commander, as a result, they have a dramatically different social structure from ours.

  We have to tread very, very carefully here.” She paused, and a curious look crossed her face.

  “Commander, where are you?”

  “Exactly where I was when we started talking.”

  “Where is your physical location, your exact coordinates. Are you on Pegasus?”

  “Neg, I am on the surface of the outer moon. We launched an archeological expedition since you left. Alkema is here with me. Say hi to the Executive Commander, Specialist.”

  “Hi to the Executive Commander, Specialist,” said Alkema.

  “They never granted permission for us to explore their moon.”

  “They haven’t been up here for at least four thousand years. Unless I am mistaken, this base was constructed by the former Commonwealth, which makes it the common property of all humanity.”

  “Commander, our hosts might be very upset if they knew we had gone onto their moon without their permission.”

  “Perhaps you ought not tell them, then. You also shouldn’t tell them we’re sending ships to the seventh planet to refresh our air, water, and fuel supplies, a mission you personally authorized.”

  Lear’s lips flattened to a line, then she smiled. “I can see we are going to require an extensive debriefing before we can make formal contact. I will be travelling using indigenous transport systems. I will contact the ship again upon my arrival, I hope you will be there. Lear out.”

  “Oh, you got her good,” came a voice on his line.

  “Queequeg, how many times do I have to tell you not to listen in on official channels.”

  “As many times as you want, but it won’t do any good. Wow! A planet with twenty females for every male. I like those odds.”

  “Somehow, I can not believe that is nearly as nice as it sounds. Since you’re listening in, have my dress uniform prepared and sent to the moon base on the next shuttle.”

  “You’re going to stay on the moon, then?”

  “Correct. If Executive Commander Lear requires my presence, I’ll be leaving directly from here.”

  “Got it.”

  “I want another Aves prepared for launch within an hour. I need engineering personnel, techies. I need energy cells, coverters, lights, re-breather packs, a roast beast sandwich on brown bread with mustard and mayo, tomato, onion, lettuce…” Another voice cut in. “Team Three. Specialist Brando to Commander Keeler.”

  “Keeler here, Go ahead, Brando.”

  “We’re down in one of the Hangar Bays. There is definitely something down here you’ll want to see.”

  Two airships plied through the clouds. They were silvery-gray, gliding almost silently through the sky. Their forward edges were shaped and tapered like the prow of a sailing vessel, and indeed, a triangular flap of glittering silver cloth decorated the forepart, filling with breeze. Seventy meters aft, a double set of fins and rudders protruded from the twin, catamaran hulls where they connected at the rear of the gasbag. Two short fins protruded underneath, a small puttering engine attached to each, driving immense curving propellers that pushed the arrangement through the sky.

  Within one hull, Goneril Lear was looking out over the passing landscape. By her chronometer, four hours had passed since they had boarded the airship and cast off from fond glacine. In that time, the forest had given way to a kind of mixed woods and grasslands, streams and undulating hills below them. Once, they had passed over a large lake and, on the shoreline, two herds of animals had gathered. Bulky quadropeds with thick, shaggy fur and elongated trunks stretching from their foreheads made up one herd. The others looked like large deer with spotted green and orange coats.

  She had yet to see a part of this world that wasn’t beautiful. An occasional long and straight trail that might have been a road appeared beneath the ship, which was only 2000

  meters above the ground, which meant they were approaching the more inhabited areas. She had glimpsed a few cities in the distance, and they had seemed like small but quiet, pleasant enough places to live.

  “A different mode of travel than that to which you are accustomed?” came a voice. She turned to see Ciel and another woman standing beside her on the observation deck.

  “We do have airships on my world,” she answered. “Although they are lifted on the anti-gravity principle, not by helium. Our atmosphere is much thinner than yours.”

  “That … that ship that carried you down here, it was also powered on this anti-gravity principle?”

  “It utilizes what we call a ‘Limited Effect Gravity Engine.’ The range of true gravitational force is infinite, but we can generate short-lived particles called anti-gravitons and confine them to a certain distance around the ship. The gravity engine is the primary source of our interplanetary travel.”

  “So, to propel yourselves, you have to forcibly defy nature’s laws,” said Ciel, frowning. “It seems like a very masculine approach, brutal, concerned only with the immediate result. Our airships may be slow, but they do not give offense to nature.”

  “And they are most comfortable,” Lear added. “And they provide one with a very pleasant view of your world.”

  “What is your world like?” Ciel asked.

  “Not like this. The atmosphere is very thin, quite cold. Most of my world is raw, gray rocks, and the seas are a faint pink color. Our cities are very impressive. My city, the City of Alexander contains nearly forty million people, and its towers …”

  “Excuse me,” Ciel interrupted. “Did you say forty million people in one city?”

  “That’s correct.”

  “By law, we limit most of the cities to 200,000 in population” the other woman, who was older, shorter, and stouter than Ciel. Her silver hair hung around hair face in what the ancients had called a “pag
e boy” cut. “Only Concordia has more people, and only because Concordia is our capital.”

  “We have to concentrate our population in the cities. The atmosphere of my planet has to be processed in order to be breathable.”

  “Why would anyone settle on such a world,” Ciel mused. “So harsh and inhospitable.

  Only a man would have chosen such a caustic environment.”

  “True, perhaps, but the conditions on our world gave us the impetus to develop standards of community and cooperation. Because resources were so scarce, we had to learn to share and manage them carefully. For us, it was an adversity that ultimate made it possible to enjoy our present culture, much as the Bloodening forced you to create a more compassionate and egalitarian society than would otherwise have existed.”

  A cloud passed in front of Bodicéa’s sun, and the light shifted to a kind of olive color. Ciel leaned in conspiratorially. “What is like working among men?” Lear was taken aback by the question. “Well, I suppose my society, because there are so many men, we’ve been conditioned to work together. I seldom give it any thought.”

  “You said the commander of your ship was a man.”

  “Affirmative.”

  Ciel shook her head. “I can’t imagine being second-guessed by a man.”

  “The commander can be a challenging individual to work with.”

  “What sort of a man is he?” Ciel asked. “What sort of man gains such a position of authority in your… culture?”

  “Prior to the mission, he was a scholar, a historian of some repute.”

  “I had expected you to say he came from the warrior class. Isn’t that the way with patriarchal cultures, choosing leadership from the class of killers, conquerors, and destroyers?” She did not sound harsh, merely dismissive. “Of course, men are equally dangerous as historians.”