Barbara’s two lead advisors smile, then get to work discussing the finer points of the new facility. They make sure to leave a copy of their discussion on Joe’s workstation.
Cindy glances at the stack of papers on Joe’s console and smiles when she reads the title. As for the rest of the ship, the Terran’s vast storage capacity has been utilized well. The shuttles run non-stop for days, ferrying supplies and people down to the colony site. A small tent city ensues, while the lucky ones get to hole up in prefabricated shelters.
From a makeshift podium, Cindy stands before the crew and colonists at the site of their future city. She runs her gaze over the thousands of people present, then speaks confidently into a bank of microphones. “Today marks the official first day of this colony, humanity’s first true step away from Earth. I hereby decree that this planet shall be named New Earth, and this city be called Hawking, after one of Earth’s greatest cosmologists. We honor those who died during our exploration mission, and those who had the foresight to make this colony a reality. I present no flags of any nations on this day, for we are all one people.”
Cindy steps away from the podium, then walks a short distance to a patch of bare ground. Patrick hands her a shovel which she holds high, before driving it into the ground with her foot. She lifts up a piece of sod, then tosses it to one side. Stepping back to the microphones, she says with a huge smile on her face, “Let the construction of Hawking begin.”
The crowed cheers louder and louder as the future settlers pick up on each other’s the energy.
Joe smiles as he gazes across the crowd. Most of the people before him are simply listed as colonists, but he knows that pretty much everyone present is a specialist in one field or another. Glancing up at the mountain tops, he feels a sense of pride. Distant wind generators spin, providing power to a single sub-station. Eventually, the colony will have four of these, one at the base of each set of power lines. But for now, one is all that is needed. His gaze follows the power lines to the sawmills and the partially built steel mill. Extending from these buildings are the usual signs of civilization. Wide roads are bordered with rounded curbs and gutters and are lit by solar powered street lights. Small flagpoles mark future property boundaries.
Joe nudges Patrick, who stands next to him, “I think you’re right.”
Patrick has left his suit on the Terran, and feels strange without it. He is confused by Joe’s comment and asks, “About what?”
Joe waves a hand indicating the crowd, “By getting these folks to live in tents, they are well motivated to get the houses built.”
Patrick nods, “Well, we just don’t have the ability to transport everyone on a daily basis. It took us three days just to get them down here for this ceremony.”
Joe grins, “I am glad we brought a shit ton of portable toilets.”
Patrick playfully thumps Joe’s shoulder, “You’re not right in the head, you know.”
“On a serious note,” Joe’s tone changes as he looks from the river to the forest behind him, “we have to get the drainage system finished, and build the water purification plant.”
Patrick’s gaze follows the river all the way to the ocean, “Yeah, Emma is adamant that we don’t contaminate the water.” His thoughts drift to the men under his charge, “You know, if I put everyone on that now, it wouldn’t take long.”
Joe glances back at the crowd, “Yeah, what’s a few more days in a tent?”
Patrick’s grin widens, “We could give them all a shovel...” he leaves the rest of the sentence unsaid. He and Joe chuckle as they talk excitedly about the settlement and the colonists.
Four Months on New Earth
The forests on both sides of the river have been trimmed well back, keeping the many sawmills busy day and night. On the city side, a massive canal extends all the way from these sawmills to the ocean. It gently curves, following the contours of the land. The trees on far side of the canal have only been cut back enough to allow for a rough dirt road. As of yet, there are no bridges. This is both to keep the wildlife out of the town, and to stop town folk from wandering. The area that is to be preserved as a natural habitat, includes the lake that Emma saw when the valley was first discovered.
The area on the other side of the river has a number of wooden walkways that meander through the grass, and into the forest. They sit about knee high off the ground, and though they are supposed to have handrails, many sections are still incomplete. Though the forest in this area was to be left untouched, many trees have been cut down to allow space for them.
A mini-steel mill is nearing completion, but without additional power, it will remain inoperable, and is thus a low priority. Once the Liberty arrives, its power will be connected to the city’s grid. Only then, can the enormous stockpiles of raw materials which are building up, be utilized. An enormous quarry site has been established, as has an area which is being slowly deforested. Though these sites are close to each other, they are a long way from the settlement, and require the use of the large shuttle to transport the resources. Each day, workers travel by shuttle, mine ore or cut down trees, then return prior to nightfall with the day’s load. Future plans call for a rail network, but like so many other plans, it is still unrealized.
Patrick strolls along the Riverwalk’s concrete footpath, scrutinizing his team’s work. Glancing at the river, he stops and stares at the flowing water, momentarily mesmerized by its similarity to Earth’s. Placing his hands on the protective rail, he looks down at the ground. He smiles when he notices his flood plans have been properly implemented. The edge of the concrete has a rubber-like material on the lip that faces the water. Leaning over the rail, he notices the thick metal barrier, which can be raised up, should the river flood. He nods his head in satisfaction as he casts his gaze up and down the concrete river bank. These temporary walls can be elevated, and at their maximum height would tower over the tallest person. These segments are long, and at the half way point, another band of rubber-like material meets the one attached to the wall, creating a seal. The lower half of the wall, still being in the water, will provide a natural counterweight as the water rises.
The secondary flood plans for the city are more subtle. The entire city’s storm water drainage system flows away from the river, and ends just before the tree line where the large, deep, canal has been constructed.
The third part of the flood protection plan is the simplest, the far side of the river remains untouched, and other than the walkways, continues to exist in its natural state.
Patrick feels a swelling of pride as he gazes at their achievements. Almost one thousand houses line the streets and roads that make up Hawking. Dozens more exist in various stages of construction, with crews working quickly and efficiently. The massive tent city shrinks day by day, as each person partakes in a lottery. Those that win are responsible for finishing the interior of their new homes. Many of the colonists are married couples, but as of yet there are no children, other than Johnny.
The house building teams consist of ten groups of twenty builders, and thirty colonists. Each team is a formidable force, and able to completely assemble one house per day. Additional groups prepare the home sites in advance with their earth moving equipment. These advance groups lay concrete slabs, install the property’s basic plumbing, and run the underground electricity. Other teams are also kept busy as they deliver basic materials such as the house frames, exterior walls, roof tiles, prefabricated windows, and more. To add variety and flair, the homes have either two, three, or four bedrooms, and come in more than a dozen different layouts. Ahead of all of these teams, are those that clear the land, dig drainage lines, pave the roads, then parcel up the land.
Patrick stares at the town center and frowns disapprovingly. Most of the town’s support buildings, such as a police station, fire station, and even the planned medical center, have not been built. Empty slabs of concrete are all that exists for these, and other buildings. He quickly, and guiltily, glances up at where
the radio telescope is to be built. One important building has been built though, and stands out amongst the city center’s vacant lots. It is a long, two story high building, and acts as the colony’s supply depot. There is no economy on New Earth, as none is needed, yet. Everyone simply goes to the supply building, selects what they need, and signs for it. Gazing down at the river once more, his thoughts turn to their water supply. It has been confirmed that the river flows from a distant glacier, one that is melting fast, in geological terms. He recalls Emma telling him that it will take hundreds of years to melt away. A water purification facility sits far up river, the treated water is pumped into a massive water tower. A series of these towers is planned, but like so many other buildings, factories, and farms, they remain a concept only. There is simply too much to erect, and like so many other facilities, will be expanded upon once the Liberty arrives.
Another building which was deemed essential by Emma, and built very early on, is the water reclamation facility at the end of the storm water canal. Those that doubted the need for this building so early on, are astonished at how much water is already flowing into its holding tanks. Perhaps the greatest surprise is the color and texture of this water. Between the run-off from the town’s drains, and the effluent from people’s homes, this facility is kept busy. Emma claims that the water which leaves this facility is safe to drink, but just to be sure, it is pumped far out to sea via a specialized pipeline. Massive diffusers occupy the end of this pipe, causing the water to exit in hundreds of tiny streams.
People still argue long and hard about George and Patrick using their bodysuits to construct the housing. But as there are only two suits, it would take too long for them to build a house. Besides, the pair has been busy setting up sawmills, the mini-steel mill, and a small glass factory. The pair works non-stop on the city’s unique buildings, and makes sure that any resources that are in short supply, are provided for, one way or another.
Walker’s Day
With almost everyone on New Earth, the Terran feels empty. Only the ship’s crew remains on board, and for them the days are long and boring. Virtually everything scheduled to be transported down, has been. The only remaining crates belong to General Walker.
Walker personally supervises the loading of a chest high wooden crate marked, ‘fragile essentials’. Once it is carefully loaded, he slowly walks around, examining it from top to bottom. It is longer than it is wide, and stamped with numerous arrows pointing upward. These arrows are accompanied by the words, ‘store this way up.’ He anxiously paces around the special consignment, checking that it is firmly in place.
Once Walker is satisfied, he calls, “Okay, it’s secure, we can take it down to Hawking.”
The loading crew scratches their heads, then leaves. They are totally in the dark about what is in the special crate, but they have their theories.
John pilots the shuttle from the Terran to Hawking without incident. Once there, he lands near General Walker’s partially built command post. Using a custom-built trolley, Walker gently rolls the crate out of the shuttle. He pensively stands before it, almost as if he is too scared to open it.
John steps from the shuttle and motions to it, “We have a pool running, about what’s in there, you know.”
Walker grins like a child, “I bought her before I was assigned to the base in Australia.” He slowly shakes his head, “I had her crated, but never got the approval to transport it there.”
John is perplexed, “If you were unable to get it to Australia, how the heck did you get the okay to bring it here?”
General Walker smiles, “These pips,” he says, touching his rank insignia. “They have to count for something.” His shy smile widens, “Besides, I told George I needed it.”
John nods, then says impatiently, “Okay, c’mon, quite teasing. What the heck is it?”
Walker slides a crowbar out of a slot in the crate’s side, then pries open the lid. Inside the crate, secured by straps to its base, is a black motorcycle. Its paint shines, as does the vast amount of chrome. The front of the bike has a huge batwing, also black, while black leather straps hang from the fenders and floor boards.
John’s jaw drops, “This is yours?” he says, even though the answer is obvious.
Walker stares at his pride and joy, “Yes it is, and I have yet to ride her.”
“I can’t believe you brought a motorcycle to New Earth,” John states, still in shock.
Walker unclasps the straps, then rolls the bike out into the sunlight. He sits on it, and says, “Well, I asked the folks at the dealership to make sure she was ready to roll.” He chuckles, “It’s not like I can take it back if it doesn’t run.”
John stares up into the sky, and shakes his head, “I doubt anyone is going to win the pool.”
Walker pulls in the clutch, selects neutral, then presses the start button. The engine turns over, and starts with loud rumble. It runs rough and choppy for a few seconds, then begins to idle more smoothly. Walker twists the throttle, the loud rumble of its powerful v-twin engine echoes through the valley.
John stares in total shock at the bike, “It runs,” he says incredulously.
Walker shuts off the engine and says, “Well, I was told that with its computerized fuel injection system, it should.” He grins with pride, “and they were right.”
John scratches his chin thoughtfully, and asks doubtfully, “That bike doesn’t run on diesel though, does it?”
Walker scowls, “Hell no,” then he chuckles.
John suddenly recalls the fifth and smaller, fuel tank he brought down, “You have your own fuel!”
Walker stares at John, his expression becomes serious, “I don’t expect to be going back to Earth any time soon, and I want to ride before I get too old.” He steps off his bike, and collects a few more items from the crate. He puts on a heavy leather jacket, straps on a helmet, then says, “I am gonna roll.”
Before John can respond, Walker restarts the bike, then with twist of his wrist, roars off. As the sound of the engine fades off in the distance, John peeks in the open crate. He grins, then turns to stare after the retreating bike, he has brought oil, filters, and even tires, amongst other things. He really does plan to stay here for quite a while.
As Walker rides through town, people stop what they are doing and stare. Many smile at the sight, while a few scowl at the noise. He rides the bike around town, then fuels up from his personal fuel supply. Tapping the massive tank, he smiles, the best engineers on Earth designed it to prevent the fuel inside from getting stale.
Chapter Eight - Arrival
Location:
Starship Liberty
Open Space
The voyage from Earth to New Earth, was nerve wracking to say the least. The second the main drive was engaged, the entire ship began to shake. The vibrations steadily worsened as the days turned into weeks. Deck plates shook loose causing the ship to gain a frightening rattling sound throughout. Captain Adams remained adamant that they would not disengage the main drive until they arrived at New Earth. His fear that the Liberty would end up stranded in space, with no way of contacting the Terran, was not unfounded.
Weeks became months, and still the Liberty continued on. Frightened colonists demanded the ship be stopped, turned around, or any one of a number of impractical suggestions. Eventually, the three members of the command crew became so inundated with demands from aggravated passengers, they began to spend more and more time on the Liberty’s small bridge. With the ship’s systems on automatic, all they could do was watch a countdown timer which displayed how long it would be until they arrived at New Earth.
Repair crews became busier and busier, as the Liberty shook herself apart. In the third month, a hull breach was reported by the ship’s pressure monitoring systems. It took almost four days for crews in spacesuits to seal the leak. By the time they were done, another was reported, then another. Adams assigned two people per space suit, then three, in his efforts to maintain around the c
lock repairs.
Finally, the day that everyone has been anxiously awaiting, arrives.
Captain Adams stares intently at the vibrating countdown timer; the days read zero, as do the hours. He smiles at Kennedy and Frank, then rubs the rough stubble on his chin. Six days earlier, the ship’s main water tank ruptured, adding to everyone’s distress. The imposed water rations have meant that no one has showered or shaved since then. The entire ship stinks of unwashed human bodies and stagnant water. For reasons unknown, the Liberty only had one spare set of filters for the life support systems, and these are proving to be less than effective. As for the water, there was literally nowhere for it go, but down. Much of lower level is now knee deep in the putrid liquid, the top of which, has a murky layer of oily scum. Adams almost wishes for a hull breach there, just to get rid of what is fast becoming a health risk.
Adams shakes his head clear. The countdown reads eight minutes. He address Frank, “Inform the crew that the main drive will be disengaging in a matter of minutes,” he swallows hard and adds, “and tell them to hang on.”
Adams rubs his stubble once more, and wonders what will happen when the main drive is shut down. The three men have discussed this moment many times, but they only have theories. Adams reflects on Joe’s visit, he told me that the Terran suffered its greatest damage when decelerating to sub-light speeds. He is grateful for Joe’s feedback; it has allowed them put a few contingency plans into place.
Adams buckles his crossover seatbelt. Kennedy and Frank glance at each other, and quickly follow suit. Through rattling teeth, Adams says, “Let the automatics disengage the main drive, then prepare to make course corrections as needed.”
If it were not for the Gamin computer systems aboard the Terran, plotting an exact path to New Earth would have been virtually impossible. The engineers who built the Liberty decided that the ship would only require human intervention to override the pre-programmed shut down. Thus, even if the crew died, the ship would still stop, and if all the calculations were correct, the Liberty would be close to New Earth.
Initiation Series: Series One Compilation (Terran Chronicles) Page 89