The Sunseed Saga

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The Sunseed Saga Page 11

by Brett Bam


  The Helium3 necessary to fuel the reactor was freely available in the solar wind, expelled directly from the sun. The Ribbontail had Helium3 capture equipment folded up in a stern store conveniently close to the Tokomak. They could deploy the collectors from the RHS while sailing between destinations and restock their fuel supply by unfolding the large gossamer screens and sieving Helium3 out of the solar wind. It was slow but effective and over a given period of zero thrust cruising, the Tokomak could be filled with enough compressed elements to cross almost any sky.

  The grappling platform attached on the bow looked like the giant, pincered, segmented arms of a scorpion, they were scratched and scarred from constant battles with the ice. Above the platform, with a circle of windows for a ceiling was the RHS, or Remote Handling Station, from which all ships systems were supervised. Directly beneath the windows was the crew toroid which contained all the gravity sleeves and the pilots chair. Below the platform was the weapons array, the bristling barrels of the Ribbontail’s weapons folded away to be hidden from view behind steel doors. Behind the RHS was the main airlock and staging area. Amidships was occupied with a string of spherical modules on either side of a spinal superstructure. They hung on frictionless bearings and could swing smoothly to orient each module to gravitational down as thrust was applied. During cruising, when the ship was subject to zero gravity, magnetic force could be applied to the modules and they were spun on their bearings to create the illusion of gravity through centrifugal force. The modules were outfitted as a data station, a medical bay, several crew quarters, a workshop fitted with high tech tools and instruments, an EVA locker with a smaller airlock and vacuum gear, a galley, a head with dry powder showers, water storage and general storage which had three dedicated modules. At the base of the twin string of modules was a larger blister. It was a hemispherical swelling of black plastic with large sliding doors across the bulge. Dalys had converted the largest fixed module into a berth for a small laser-powered space plane. Access to each module was gained through a dilating portal which whisked open and shut on command. There was a central corridor which ran the length of the ship through the core of the spinal superstructure, giving access to each module through portals at air-locked junctions. During thrust the corridor which ran the length of the superstructure was angled as down, and access to different parts of the ship was achieved by climbing a long ladder up a corridor with small landings at each portal. There was a sling which could pull up, or drop down the corridor during low gravity and zero gravity cruising. A hull casing of foam and a plastic-steel encapsulated the modules providing the required radiation protection. The crew had stamped their identity on the ship, each of them claiming areas of specialty where they could work and live, relatively undisturbed. It was a messy place, often like an electrical workshop or a busy kitchen, depending on the time of day. The life support system could become laboured without regular maintenance, and when that happened, strange smells could fill the interior. Berea had a penchant for decorating things, and Dalys was always finding little pockets of graffiti in obscure places. It was a home and a business. It was her vessel and she loved it.

  She sighed with a pleasure approaching ecstasy as the Ribbontail slipped loose of her moorings and drifted into empty space. Under her gentle touch, it spread its dissipater fans and thrust slowly away from Earth Harbour, banking sharply to point her bow at the empty void. The ribbon of heavy elements twisted brightly behind her, marking her path, dissipating slowly in radiated brightness.

  “Ten second warning folks.”

  The stations all flashed green and Dalys pressed the flight pads.

  “Here we go.”

  Thrust pushed through the ship. Dalys settled into a comfortable one g coast, the RHS swung on its frictionless bearings, orienting the floor downwards as the zero-g of space diminished.

  Dalys could feel the ship through the seat of her pants, the soft hum of the Tokomak, the reassuring thud-thud-thud of the acceleration helix, the dissipater fans trembling under thrust. All was well, it felt normal.

  “Course set Skipper.” Oscar was faster than Jack Mac as always, and Dalys smiled.

  “She’s running smoothly Dalys, green across the board. We could still do with a new ion booster; it’ll increase our output by another ten percent.”

  “Tell it to the bank comrade. Berea, keep a sharp eye on scan please, we’re still deep inside the harbour’s traffic and I could do without any surprises.”

  “Aye, aye, Skipper!” From her console Dalys could see both Berea and Oscar; she watched them with a Captains critical eye as they flicked their hands across their consoles.

  “Moabi, keep a close eye on the hull casing. We didn’t finish checking it and I don’t want to place too much stress on it. If we crack it anymore it will crumble. Let me know the second we exceed current safety parameters and I’ll ease off on thrust.”

  “You got it boss.”

  Dalys was happiest when she was sailing through the vacuum like this, immersed in the details of flying and controlling three hundred tons of hurtling steel. She was at peace.

  “At one with the universe,” she chuckled.

  Berea turned in her seat. “What was that Skipper?”

  “Nothing my dear, merely reflecting.” She watched as the anticipated trajectory diagrams came up in her data vision and showed she was on course for open space. She was still confined by the strictures of Earth Harbour, but their slingshot was coming up and she would boost hard for the moon, thrusting at maximum to achieve velocity. Her passage opened and was clear as she sailed past the final set of marker buoys. Suddenly, ahead of her, was empty sky and there was a faraway glimmer off the bow. Their target.

  “Hold on to your stuff boys and girls, here we go.”

  Dalys piled on the thrust, redlining everything. Gravity increased and pressed down on them, and seemed to last forever. When Dalys eventually cut thrust, they plunged into zero gravity, sliding across the sky at terrific velocity. The navigation computer highlighted their destination and drew their delta v across the gap. They were aimed at a stream of extruded icebergs, drifting in empty space. They glimmered in the feint sunlight, reflecting like diamonds.

  “Destination sighted, course locked, we should be there in 15 minutes.” said Jack Mac.

  “Moabi, dress in. Berea, you're up.”

  Berea touched her console, and several thuds and clanks vibrated through the hull. The grappling platform folded and extended. Its four segmented arms stretched wide to form a huge X in front of the bow. Berea rolled her controls and the platform swivelled on a coupling.

  “Green, skipper.”

  “Romeo that Berea. Stand by for movement.”

  The icebergs were manufactured on the harbour and injected into orbit. They were huge, and the drifting mass dwarfed and then eclipsed the vessel. Dalys applied braking thrust and the grappling platform kissed the ice. There was a loud boom which shook everything. Dalys applied minimal thrust to keep the craft pressed hard against the slick surface. Berea fired the platform’s stabilisers and the arms drilled a series of long bolts into the ice to secure the ship. Dalys reversed thrust to test the grip, it held.

  “Moabi, you are clear.”

  The small airlock on the starboard EVA module irised open and Moabi came floating out. He took several readings by pressing a sensor to each bolt. Then he inspected the ice around their footings before giving it the all clear. Oscar was watching carefully. This was the first EVA he'd seen, and he was nervous to try it. He watched as Moabi moved around, how careful he was, how he adjusted every motion for the zero gravity. Then Oscar saw a peculiar thing. Moabi attached a line and took off across the hemisphere of ice. He was towing a large package, stopped in several places, and was busy for more than fifteen minutes. Oscar turned to Dalys.

  “We're stealing water from Earth?”

  Dalys frowned at him. “Why would you make an assumption like that?”

  “Well, I just watched Moabi attach
a bomb and a beacon to the ice.”

  “So? What's it to do with you?”

  “Well, for one thing, I don't see the profit in it for you. I can't understand why you would do it. It's not like you're going to see some sort of profit in it. By the time you could catch up with this iceberg it’ll be beyond Pluto. Whoever grabs the beacon on the other side will make all the money. I mean, I get why you would steal from Mars, but Earth too?”

  Jack Mac chuckled. “Kid, what do you think that trajectory information is worth? I’m surprised you didn’t see the obvious. That bomb is precise, and the vector is calculated. We’re not just flinging it into the void, merely altering its intended course to be collected in a different depot. The trick is to get enough icebergs before they catch on, then we hightail it out of here and sell the info to Saturn.”

  Moabi’s indicator turned green, he was back inside safely, gear stowed. “Hang on to something people, applying thrust.”

  Dalys set the accelerator at maximum boost. The subliminal hum set Oscar’s teeth rattling, although the gravity remained nil. Oscar watched as the ice started to shift and gain momentum. Slowly, over the next three hours, Dalys piled on the thrust, altering the trajectory of the iceberg, aiming carefully for its planned official destination, joining the millions of other icebergs in the long chain which crossed the void. Once they achieved their target Dalys gave a verbal warning and then cut thrust. Explosive bolts separated the grappling platform from the frozen mass and Dalys allowed them to drift away while Berea reversed the grapplers and stowed them. The iceberg carried on into the depths of space, destined to be stolen, while the Ribbontail circled back to Earth Harbour, another job well done and a night on the town to celebrate.

  Dalys love the sunrises and sunsets from Earth Harbour. The sun blinked bright and sailed above the horizon of the planet, turning darkness to brightness and black to blue. It shone directly into the city for hours, painting everything around her in the clearest, most profound colours she had ever seen. Then, all too quickly, the lip of the Harbour was a silhouetted line of jagged peaks throwing coppery light over the city. The sun crossed the narrow gap of naked sky quickly before the upside-down bowl shape of the harbour sheltered them from its direct rays. Dusk descended as the sun moved behind the harbour and lit the planet below. Dalys loved staring up at the beckoning spectacle of Earth and its unfriendly, damaged environment. The shadow of the harbour tracking across the planet was an excellent timepiece. Once she knew how to read it, all she had to do was look up to know.

  When the sun set on the opposite side of the harbour, it drifted brightly across the narrow band of sky, painting the city in colours again. It was the miracle of the place, two sunrises and two sunsets in one day. Once the sun set behind the Earth the sudden absence of light was like a descending sea of velvet blackness, Dalys thrilled as the darkness overtook her in a slow wave, cresting from the rocky rim to plunge the valley into deep night. The lights of Harbour City blinked into life across the velvety blackness of the valley in space. It was spectacular to live in a place with such a staccato rhythm.

  With the night, the massive storms ravaging the surface of Earth seemed to calm and fade, swallowed by darkness. The southern face of the planet began to shine in places with the luminescence of civilisation. Great glorious veins of dancing light threaded their way across the surface. Lutho Val Max was unmoved by the marvel, he waited patiently for Dalys to stop staring at the sky.

  “What is that?” Dalys pointed at a gleaming point of geometric light halfway down the continent of Africa, surrounded on all sides by darkness. Lutho squinted momentarily through the windscreen.

  “That’s a Terran habitat. The one you’ve just indicated is engaged in the maintenance of the Earth man Quintain De Sol.”

  A spark of interest flickered through Dalys.

  “What do you mean, the maintenance of an Earth man?”

  “Quintain De Sol is one of the most important human beings left on Earth. He is a supervisor of the Protocol.”

  “I thought it was all programmes and machines. The Protocol is supervised by humans?”

  “That is correct. There are several thousand humans still in residence on Earth. They are all cared for in habitats like the one you see below. It is the best facility the Protocol is capable of building and it services all the needs of the inhabitant. I think your uncouth culture has named them Paradise Towers. I assure you humans below are all well cared for.” His voice droned on robotically, it was almost hypnotic.

  “A luxurious palace for every individual on the planet sounds like paradise.”

  “I assure you captain, each one of those people earn their place.”

  “Hmm. Doing what I wonder?” She knew she would never get a comprehensive answer.

  There was a short silence.

  “What’s that?”

  Lutho followed her gesture to a conglomeration of lights in the middle of the continent, lines of light radiating out from its centre.

  “That is Africa City. It is a central hub for the atmospheric scrubbers, part of the effort to remove pollutants from the air. It is a travel and supply hub as well, but its major role is weather control. There are several on every continent.”

  “And that?”

  She pointed next to the string of lights tracing a long, uneven line across the ocean from just below the African bulge to the Caribbean Sea. She traced the line with her finger, it sparkled like a diamond necklace on an ebony throat.

  “That is Atlantic City. It’s used for servicing the Sea Cities around the Mid Atlantic Ridge and the Newfoundland Basin. There are over 700 underwater installations operating at depths of up to 4 kilometres. What you see are the surface support installations. Home to many humans albeit of a lesser status than supervisors.”

  “They live under the ocean? Why?”

  “The oceans are key to the stabilisation of the planet’s biosphere. Their health is paramount to the existence of life as you understand it.”

  Dalys thought about the deserts of Mars, vast and barren. Or the stone beaches on Uranus where a methane sea crashed onto the gravel with a might Earths oceans would never match. The majesty of the ice canyon on Titan, where she had holidayed as a child, university life in the complex societies of Saturn’s Rings, within a stone’s throw of the Royal Palace. She felt a stab of homesickness for those places, knowing it would be decades before she walked those familiar roads again. She had been in some fantastic places in her life but she thought that none of those travels could prepare her for the reality of what it would be like on Earth itself. The desire to walk down there somewhere in natural sunlight with the wind on her face was sharp and urgent.

  Their path led them through one of the magnificent buildings dominating the skyline of Harbour City. Its foundations sprang from the ground with a vibrant, twisting energy to form an amphitheatre above them. The columns supporting the building were encased in blue crystal, and lasers beamed holographic images into the crystal, making Dalys feel as if she was walking through a shifting and insane landscape, a real through-the-looking-glass world. She stopped and stared at the images several times; they were captivating. The floor at her feet looked at first like a random pattern fluctuating on the floor, but as she covered more ground she began to appreciate the overall design. She recognised it slowly at first, and then it came to her in a sudden rush of altered perception. It was a map of the solar system, beautiful and dramatic. If she focused hard on a feature on the floor, the holographic projection reacted to her attention by expanding and showing her rich detail. She looked carefully at Mars and then at Jupiter as she walked.

  There was a sense of vast space in the hall that was slightly intimidating. Lutho led them to an elevator that would take them to the top of the building, 433 floors in less than a minute. As they settled in the elevator he turned to Dalys and said, “I am instructed to inform you. The Protocol has granted your request.”

  “I’m finally getting to go down to the su
rface?”

  “Yes, although the rest of your crew is still denied access, my condolences to them.” He was polite at least.

  Six hours later, Dalys stood with Lutho Val max at the elevator station waiting for a drop to Earth. She watched the elevators screaming along between the planet and the harbour, energy patterns swirling in their wake. An elevator came hurtling through the rainbow sky. It raged into the building above them, slowing suddenly and violently into the roof, then settling and opening gently in front of them. The speed with which it travelled was awesome and she felt a tingle of trepidation as she walked towards it. There were several other people on the platform, most of them accompanied by their own Protocol liaison, each of them remarkably like Lutho.

  She stepped through the capsule doors and into the compartment of a large and spacious personnel descent lift. A comfortable lounge greeted them as they boarded and there were several gravity couches aligned along the viewing window that stretched across one wall. Screens flashed information as she took her seat; they detailed rate of descent, air supply and pressure in the cage, position along the tube and other supplemental details. Dalys noticed that there were no emergency procedures mentioned. Either they never had emergencies, or if something did go wrong then worrying was just academic.

  A wide range of emotions threatened to overwhelm her facade of cool disinterest and she nearly let the laughter out. She was about to make landfall on Earth! She was going to penetrate the Protocol stronghold and see the birthplace of man, a feat few people in the solar system could boast.

  The cage shifted as soon as she buckled herself in. It began to roll toward the launching station. She looked straight up into the violet mists of the magnetic tether and then gasped in amazement as the magnetic tube crystallised. The cage leapt into the tube with a rush of speed, the thrust translating into added weight.

 

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