To Touch the Stars (Founding of the Federation Book 2)

by Chris Hechtl

  She had eventually settled onto an incremental, almost evolutionary change program, regressing the arms and reshaping them bit by bit each generation until they figured it all out. Apparently the pod leaders were impatient with that plan and wanted more progress.

  Apparently two of the pod leaders had found an ancient image, something over a century old on the net. Most likely from the archives, though it might have been picked up when someone had done research on the uplifting of dolphins for them. Some Sci-Fi goof had put an extra set of arms and made all sorts of body and coloration changes to the dolphins in the image. She'd tried to explain it was fiction, but the pod leaders had been insistent they explore it.

  It was good that they wanted to explore their bodies. It was a mark on how far they had come, and how they were now comfortable with it. But that idea was stuck in their heads. She was pretty sure they didn't understand what was involved, the sort of biological engineering needed to add an extra set of limbs. The shoulder joint mechanics alone! She shook her head.

  “The genetic simulations say we can do a full limb though. We need to run another series of tests here, which means finishing this latest version and then fast growing the body parts to see if they will work. Preferably before I have to go on maternity leave again,” Aurelia said dryly. “If we have time after that, I know the gorilla clan wants another crack at their voice box and short legs. I think it's silly, but it is their body. And after that the Neodog pack leaders want more progress on their shift to biped. I think that is a major headache but an intriguing project,” Aurelia said, voice softening as her mind began to focus on the culture dish's contents.

  Kathy nodded and swung into her work.

  -*-*-^-*-*-

  “What are we going to do about things?” Jean demanded as he sat on the deck. He loved looking out through the window of his high rise office almost as much as he loved the infinity pool he had at home. Seeing the city was anathema to him, but beyond the steel and concrete buildings was Sunset Park, a beautiful square block of green grass, laughing kids, and trees. He could almost smell the evergreen trees from his office.

  “Things are changing, Jean; you need to be patient,” Megan said, crossing her legs as she sat in the chair. “The trends are shifting.” She reached over and picked up her wine glass and took a sip.

  “But not fast enough. Not nearly fast enough,” Jean said quietly, still looking at the park. It would be great if a lot more of the Earth was like that. But population was a problem. That, he decided, was something else he needed to address. They needed to get some sort of population control in place. Draconian in the case of people who didn't support him. And third world countries needed it badly. If they kept the rats in check they'd have more resources for those who deserved it, he thought.

  “You have to expect blow back. The enemy wants to win just as bad as you, so there will be setbacks now and in our future. Get used to it,” Gerald said mildly. He stretched, then made a show of cracking his knuckles.

  “We need to pick the megacorps apart. Find a way in. Something that will let us tear them a new one if not tear them apart,” Jean said darkly.

  “Good luck with that. Lagroose is the biggest and we can't take them down in one shot. Even if something happened to their patriarch and his family, they'd still be there. Maybe they'd shrink but not a whole hell of a lot,” Gerald warned him. “They have contingency plans to deal with those situations.”

  “What about the board? Can't we invest something there? Get some infighting going? If they are distracted fighting their own people, won't that slow them down? Tear them apart from the inside?” Jean suggested. “It's worked before,” he said stubbornly.

  “Jack Lagroose owns too much of the company to allow that to happen. He's got the shares to control the board even if they suffer something. Which … I don't recommend. Not overtly,” Gerald warned, holding up a restraining hand. “He's been … remarkably restrained in his back door dealings. But if anyone took a pot shot at him or his family, I'm fairly certain the gloves will come off, which will be unfortunate for all concerned,” he said. He glanced at Tom Nash standing behind his boss. Nash didn't react, just stood there with his hands clasped in front of him. Gerald's eyes turned to Saul. The Russian shrugged and picked up his Vodka bottle to pour himself a shot.

  “Look at what they are doing. They are throwing money away with this hyperdrive project, Pavilion and Star Reach can't make it work; what makes them think they can?” Jean demanded.

  “Apparently something. Our spies report they are further along than anyone else. We've known that from the success they had with Cyclops one through three. Even the Chinese haven't started construction of an actual hull, let alone a lot of hulls,” Saul reported. He didn't have a lot of spies in the Chinese. The slant eyes took care of their own, and the Tongs came down hard on anyone he tried to slip in. That didn't mean he didn't try, but the expenditure of resources sucked. He could care less what happened to the pawns involved.

  “Rather ambitious of them. One has to wonder why; they'll never make it back,” Megan said.

  “Oh, if they write their own ticket …” Gerald smiled. “Or charged through the nose for each ticket they'd make it. There are a lot of people wanting off this planet. That doesn't include the entire solar systems they can claim as their own. Think about that. There is power, real power.”

  “Which means they will be throwing their money away to achieve that dream. A lot of people have bought into this. It's like Virgin Galactic all over again,” Jean said, thoroughly disgusted. He felt a bit of wind kick up, not a lot a zephyr. A hawk cried above, wheeling in the air. He glanced up to it then back to the group.

  “He succeeded in the end and look where that took us you mean?” Gerald asked. Jean nodded. “True,” Gerald agreed with a slow deliberate not. “But think of it this way. If it fails they'll lose everything. The investors will get cagey and go elsewhere. The shareholders will drop them like a hot rock, which will crush Lagroose, possibly sending them into bankruptcy. At the very least, he won't have the excess money anymore for adventures.”

  “And it will kill starships. At least for a generation,” Saul rumbled thoughtfully. He hated how his own country was so far behind. He'd tried to feed his contacts in the various aerospace firms Intel, but they couldn't use any of it. Nor could they afford to pay him much to get more. “Which means once the dust settles everyone will refocus on Earth and investing here,” he said. “At least until the other planets are habitable.”

  “True,” Gerald agreed. He smiled nastily. “Lagroose has themselves out on a limb with this project. We just need to be right behind them with a saw to make sure they fall.”

  “I'm not happy about this latest report. What are they doing with dolphins? And why are they going to be on the bridge of the ship?” Jean mused.

  “I'm not sure. We've been hearing some odd stories for years about Lagroose. We know his wife is a geneticist. His mother was too.”

  “You think she did something? Tinkered with them? Turned them into some sort of biological computer?”

  “Or altered them enough to finally talk to us,” Gerald said. “We've confirmed they did that with chimps and gorillas. They are using them as workers.”

  “Did they really get them to talk?” Saul asked, mildly interested. He'd heard stories of intelligence organizations tinkering with animals. He knew one small outfit had modified Kodiak bears into some sort of soldier. He was unsure of the wisdom of such project. He wouldn't want to go hand to hand with a bear though.

  “We've done that before, we've been teaching apes to sign language for over 130 years. Wouldn't that make them people then?” Megan asked. Gerald frowned thoughtfully. “People who need protection? People not slaves?” she asked, then her eyes lit. “A slave race? We could use that!” Megan said, now excited. “Do we have confirmation? Images? Video?” The lawyer shook her head. “Damn. Without that we've just got rumor and innuendo. Worthless except as window dressing
.”

  “And letting it out would tell them the thrust of future attacks,” Saul warned.

  “We … could indeed use that eventually,” Gerald said slowly as he turned the thought over in his head. “We need more information though. And unfortunately, Lagroose just laughs at subpoenas when it comes to their space-based projects. We don't have a leg to stand on here, no jurisdiction,” Gerald said.

  “Find a way in. Get some better Intel,” Jean said, looking first to Gerald and then to Saul. Saul nodded. “I know it won't be easy,” Jean said, cutting him off.

  “All we have to go on is the report from the disgruntled janitor. He didn't see a lot; they had bots to do a lot of the work. He's being interviewed again now.”

  “See if we can stage an interview with some of our media friends. Prime him and them with horror stories. At the very least it might shake something loose from Lagroose, and they'll either deny it or come clean.”

  “Not completely. They don't want people to know how far they've taken these projects.”

  “And we can use that to our advantage,” Megan said, making a note of her orders. “I'm not sure priming the janitor is a good idea. That could backfire if people ask where he's been since he was fired, and what we told him to say could come out. In situations like this the truth or vague comments are better. We can always spoon-feed a spin through comments and blog posts.”

  “Do it,” Jean ordered with a nod. She nodded.

  -*-*-^-*-*-

  Tia Fraser, a reporter for Mars News Network was annoyed by her assignment. Sure she'd pissed the boss off with that retraction, but making her do background stories? Well, at least it wasn't the pet patrol she thought.

  She walked with her camera bot to the Irons family dome. She looked about, admiring the old feel of the area. The Irons family had moved half a decade ago to the canyon mall complex when it had been covered over and made habitable. From what she'd heard there was some sort of scandal going on about the canyon. Rumor had it that it was on low ground, so it might be vulnerable to flooding.

  She smiled politely to people in passing. A few recognized her, others saw the camera robot toddling along behind her, put that together with her vaguely recognized profile, and then paused in what they were doing to stare. She just kept moving.

  Here she was, doing background on the starship program. Her orders were to get to Mario Irons to do a human interest story on his opinion on mankind taking the next step. She wasn't even sure if the old goat was still alive. She checked her appearance briefly with the bot, having it do a spiral around her. She adjusted her red blouse and then touched up her purple frizzy hair. She thought it complimented her mahogany skin, but her mother hated the shade. She smiled, practicing her trademark smile. That smile got her into a lot of places her credentials wouldn't.

  “Okay, here we go,” she breathed, then stepped up to the door and waiting camera system. She looked around until she saw the sign that pointed to a red button. “A doorbell of all things? How quaint,” she said, pushing the button.

  Amelia looked up with a frown when she heard the doorbell. She knew she was the only one home; everyone else was either at work or off shopping for great-granddad's 150th birthday. She checked the camera and frowned thoughtfully. It wasn't a school friend or anyone she knew. It was an adult. From the look of it, she had a camera bot with her. She set her schoolwork aside, hopped off her bed, and trotted through the compound to the front entryway to see what was going on. The distraction was welcome; doing calculus was dry and dull.

  “Who is it?” a small female voice asked from the intercom.

  “Tia Fraser, Mars Network News,” Tia said with another of her patented smiles for the camera. “I'd like to speak with Mario Irons if at all possible.”

  “He's not here. He's at the doctor’s,” the girl replied, opening the door. She eyed the reporter for a moment, trying to be polite and not make a comment about the woman's choice of clothes and hair color. She looked like a goof with the purple hair, red blouse, and electric yellow skirt.

  “And you are?” Tia asked, not ready to give up and go home empty handed.

  “Amelia. Amelia Irons. I'm his granddaughter. Well, great-granddaughter.”

  “Ah,” Tia said, smiling indulgently as Amelia seemed to come out of her shell a bit. She wasn't quite shy, and she did have poise about her. Unfortunately the kid was blocking her view of the interior of the complex. She used her remote to try to angle the camera a bit to get a better view.

  “So, what do you think of the starship program? Has your granddad said anything?” Tia asked.

  “It's cool,” Amelia said with a shrug of indifference.

  “Just that? Cool?”

  “Well, I've known about it since I was three,” Amelia said with an amused look.

  “Really? Three?” Tia asked, now amused.

  “Sure. Oh, I know what you're thinking, but I'm a lot smarter than I look. I'm going to graduate high school in two years or less. I'm about to take my first online college courses next semester,” Amelia said.

  “Oh?”

  “Yeah,” Amelia said. “I'm not sure what career path I want though. I mean, traditionally the family goes into engineering or medicine.”

  “Yes, about that …”

  “Oh, sorry, the starship program. I guess you'll have to edit that part out. What do you want to know?”

  “Well um,” Tia frowned, now off balance by the precocious preteen. She realized she wasn't going to get past the front door of the Irons family compound so she decided to get what she could. Perhaps when the adults heard the story, they'd want to set the record straight later. She nodded mentally.

  “I'm curious; do you have the time to answer some questions?”

  “Yeah, shoot,” Tia said, grinning a bit. “I'm almost done with my calculus anyway. I needed a break,” she admitted, looking over her shoulder. “I'll grab a snack when we're done here and then knock it out before I do my chores,” she said.

  “You are a very dutiful young lady,” Tia said smoothly. “Are all your siblings and cousins like that?” She asked, regretting that she didn't have any thumbnail bios of the Irons family.

  “Yup, we're all pretty smart cookies,” Amelia replied with a grin. “Isley's parents have been working on the fusion reactor for the Daedalus for years and years. That's what I meant when I said I knew about it. I heard them talking about it a few times when I was very young. I even saw the design they were working on at the time. It was pretty cool, more efficient, but they had some turbulence issues to deal with. I think the angle of the injector ports were off.”

  “I see,” Tia said.

  “They got it fixed though,” Amelia said hastily. It was obvious she was very proud of her aunt and uncle. “We're all happy about the starship, I know great-granddad is happy he backed Mr. Lagroose when he did his start-up. Oh wait, that was Granddad Luigi I think,” she said, suddenly unsure of herself.

  “I didn't know your family had been involved with Lagroose Industries for so long,” Tia said, thinking furiously. She made a mental note to look that bit up for supporting material.

  “Yup!” Amelia said, chipper once more. “The same for the Smythe family. I know he sold out to Lagroose, but uncle Adal is a smart cookie too. He's working on a new design with Aunt Ellen I think. I'm not sure,” she said.

  “Well! That's certainly interesting.

  “If you are looking for Aunt Ellen, she's up in the yard now. She's going to be Fusion One's chief power plant engineer. We got the news this morning,” Amelia said smugly.

  Tia's eyes widened a bit. “Well, good for her! You must be so proud of her,” she said. Lagroose hadn't released any information on the crew. That was a scoop, she thought with a mental grin. If it was true, she reminded herself.

  Amelia frowned when her phone went off. She looked down at the bangle and pulled an earwig off. She put it in her ear and a wire unfolded to project an image into her right retina. “Sorry, text message.
Mom's on her way home and wants me to get dinner started. I need to hustle,” Amelia said.

  Tia nodded. She frowned when her own phone vibrated. From the feel of the vibration pattern, it was her boss. “And now my phone is blowing up too. Talk about timing!” she said with a smile.

  “It happens that way sometimes,” Amelia said, rolling her eyes as she stepped back. “Bye,” she said, voice softer.

  “Bye. Thank you,” Tia said, waving the camera bot back. She stepped back and then turned to the camera bot. “This is Tia Fraser, Mars News Network reporting.”

  -*-*-^-*-*-

  The reporter was amused by the young lady but her editor killed the story since the information had come from a child. Amelia was disappointed when she found out she wasn't on the news later that evening, nor the following night. She programmed the complex computer to watch for mention of her in the news. When her parents found out, they were annoyed that a reporter had interviewed their child without their consent. They contacted the editor who assured them the story would not be run. They were confused but mollified when they hung up and confronted a now insecure Amelia.

  “Does that mean I'm in the clear?” Amelia asked hopefully.

  “We'll discuss it later,” her mother said primly. She frowned thoughtfully.

  Amelia's face fell. “That still means I'm in trouble then,” she pouted.

  “No, well, maybe,” her father said, catching her and pulling her into his lap. “What it means is you need to not run off your mouth to strangers. You know our rule,” he said. She nodded dutifully. “And if it's a reporter, give them a smile, a nice no comment, and close the door.”

  “Then tell an adult right away,” her mother interjected.