by Chris Hechtl
“Right, sorry, Doctor. You're not a medical doctor though, right?” the man asked.
She sighed. “No,” she replied in a testy voice as she handed him the bag. “I'm a planetologist and terraforming expert. I have multiple doctorates in related fields of study.”
“I see. An egghead's egghead.”
“Quaint,” she replied, eying him. He was tall, thin, and almost bald. He had a long face and a nice smile. “Who are you?”
“Sorry, Race Track. I know, I know, I get that look a lot,” he said as her face froze then puckered. “What can I say?” he shrugged helplessly. “My parents had a questionable sense of humor. I'm the engineer here.”
“Oh.”
“This way. Once we get you out of the lock we'll move to the centrifuge part of the station, the hab ring. You'll feel more at home there.”
“God, I hope so,” she muttered. “You've been waiting for me?”
“I was coming onto your shuttle to check on you, yes,” Race replied. “The pilot said you were under the weather, which was why you hung back I suppose. Or were you sleeping? That's been known to happen a few times.”
“No, I was reading and trying to concentrate on my précis,” she replied.
“Ah, I see.”
“It's my first trip in space. Funny that, I've spent my entire life dreaming of planets and stuff, but up until now ….” She paused as they passed a hexagonal view port and she got a lock at the ball below them. “Wow,” she said softly, cutting herself off.
“Yeah, nice view. You get used to it,” Race said.
She turned slightly to eye him. He hadn't stopped but did so at the junction. They were in the center of the station, the shaft that was in microgravity. She glanced back to the heavens outside. She could just make out the shadow of the station rotation in the periphery of the window. That made her gulp and look back at him.
“Getting cynical? Been there, seen it all? How long have you been on the station, Mister Track?”
“Call me Race,” Race replied with a slight shrug. Movements in null G were hard sometimes. He reached out to grab a hand hold to steady himself as she caught up to him. “Mind the cargo pallet there,” he said, pointing to a bundle with a medical insignia. She shied away from it. “I don't know what's in it, but I don't want you to break it by accident or it to poke you.”
“Thanks,” she muttered. “You didn't answer the question though.”
“Oh, I suppose I didn't. I've been in a lot of the company's stations. I started out over forty years ago, and I've been involved in quite a bit. Everything from Jack's Junkyard Palace right up to the Giant's Castle. I've been building this place for a while now. I'd hoped to be in Mars orbit, but at least I'm not out in the outer reaches of the star system building the hyperspace station there,” he said with another miniscule shrug.
“I see.”
“Careful for this bit, Doc,” he warned her as they entered an airlock module and made a right turn. “You are going to feel gravity start to return as we move along this corridor. We're really falling actually,” Race explained. “They tried cars to move people and cargo around but the weight shift proved too much even with the computers trying to balance the load. So, we're on foot. Just mind your steps.”
“Okay. No windows?”
“Trust me, you do not want windows in this part. Nor in the hab section itself. Not with the spin. They are all vid screens inside so people like you won't get sick.”
“Okay,” she said as her stomach roiled. “I um …”
He turned to eye her then swore. “You're turning green,” he said, snapping a bag out and handing it to her. Chloe turned away in time as she clutched the bag to her face and got wretchedly sick in it.
“Happens to all of us I suppose. Sacrifice to the gods of space, Newton, and tummy butterflies,” Race said, pulling a hanky out for her to wipe her face with.
“Thanks,” she muttered, sealing the bag and holding it at arm's length. He gently took the bag and handed her the hanky. “Thanks again,” she muttered.
“Keep walking. Try not to think about it and don't be embarrassed.”
“Lord this is going to be a long tour,” she said with a suffering sigh. She could feel the gravity return. The frog in her throat suddenly had other places to go. She winced when she let loose some of the gas her body had been storing. She felt immensely relieved but embarrassed.
“Like I said, don't be embarrassed. Maybe it'll be long, but if you don't focus on it, it'll go by quick. What's your deal here anyway?”
She blinked, clearly surprised. She'd thought everyone had known. “I'm the project director. Didn't they tell you?”
“No, I suppose they didn't,” Race replied absently. “Been a tad busy with a series of solar flares and all.” He frowned thoughtfully. Were they putting her in charge of his station? Someone who'd never been in space? Resentment tinged his thoughts before he got it under control. It wasn't up to him, he reminded himself. He just drew a paycheck.
“I see,” she said. She followed him to the lock. He pounded on it once then turned the handle and opened the door. “Welcome to our humble abode, madam,” he told her as the door opened. Smells and sounds assaulted her, making her rear back in surprise.
“You get used to it,” Race replied with a shake of his head. “Welcome, welcome, welcome,” he said as people called out to her. Chloe smiled, ducked her head and entered the habitat.
~V~
“The next bit we have is a media recording. It was publicly broadcast in the year 2145. It is an interview with Jean Ro Pierre, head of the One Earth and Earth First movements.”
~V~
Jean Ro Pierre sat politely as he waited for his turn to take the stage. The reporter was a flack, some American twit with pretty good ratings that Megan Su, his public affairs director, had insisted would be helpful to the cause to talk to. Oliver wasn't one of their people, so he'd have to watch what he said he reminded himself. He wouldn't put it past Oliver or one of his producers to go off script to trip him up.
Jean was a handsome, charming man. Suave, sophisticated. A real ladies man with his French accent “sensual mouth.” He knew it and took special care to groom himself properly for his role as leader of the New One Earth movement. His parents had moved to France from the French quarter of Canada when he had been young, then returned when he had been a teen so his French accent was strong. He'd taken great pains to control it, however. Women found the touch of culture charming since he was single and well dressed, but some men, especially American men, hated it.
He was polylingual and quite proud of it. He used his language skills to charm people to his side. His was a multigenerational effort to take mankind back from the brink of insanity and the environmental crisis to refocus them on rebuilding Earth and human civilization. All with human dignity. And if he ended up in charge, so much the better he thought with a mental licking of his chops.
He was quite powerful and not just because Canada had been swarmed with refugees in the past fifty years. Many industries had relocated to high ground and quite a few that hadn't made the jump to space had gotten to Canada.
Earth was still stumbling along, polluted, over populated, and crowded. There were just under twenty billion people as of the last census. That was pretty good considering they'd had to institute mandatory reproductive implants in many countries to get their population numbers under control. It had been incredibly unpopular in many quarters. The Christian communities had pitched all sorts of fits and dragged their feet on implementing it anyway they could for decades. Negotiating deals on it had taken delicate work spanning decades.
The cities were increasingly desperate for space and resources. Thousands were crammed into towering edifices of glass and steel. Finding a job to support such living was rough so the idea of having a child was one reason the population had stalled in developed countries. They had been briefly eclipsed by others who had millions of poor who bred like rabbits until they got thei
r numbers under control. Popular opinion was that China's one child per couple was becoming more of a necessity each year. He frowned mentally as he made a note to have his people explore that in a future discussion point. People were living longer; the life span was now past the 140 years. Birth rates had to come down further somehow or the statisticians were right. The population would past the twenty-one billion mark in less than a decade. That was unacceptable.
Prisons were still full, the usual mix of murders, thieves and protestors were there, along with others. What had changed was the attitude on capital punishment. One option that had been debated for a century was mind alteration or even mindwipes. It had been considered cruel and unusual punishment so therefore it was strictly voluntary. Spend the rest of your natural life in a small prison cell or get with the program. Many sexual predators and serial killers thought they could hack it and get around the alterations. With mandatory computer monitoring, they'd been proven wrong.
Still, the lack of capital punishment hadn't done much to improve the population numbers, but it had a negative impact on crime. With access to modern medical care, education, and proper nutrition, people were living longer lives. The catch was that still not everyone had access to all three. With the ongoing environmental crisis, farming was tricky at best in some regions.
His predecessors in One Earth and Earth First had been wildly out of focus. Their main plan had been an all-out effort to kill the 3-D printing industry since it took away jobs from people. Three-dimensional printing had been a boon for many people but hadn't been as big a game changer as some had expected. After all, it cost to print an item, and you had to put it together once the parts were done. It also took time, stank, and you had to store the materials, and if it failed you had to start over and recycle the bad part.
All those points had been made many times but really hadn't sunk in. He saw 3-D printing as a helpful tool, but stores were still around. Over the past century, two-thirds had switched to online retail with delivery within twenty-four hours however. Since they weren't making any headway despite subtle and not very subtle sabotage as well as political pressure, he'd retooled the party's direction once he'd come to power.
His first line of attack was the population; they had to get it under control. It was a delicate issue though; he had to tread lightly in some quarters while not looking like he was trying to take advantage of the situation without offering a resolution to it. The public was aware of such people now; they were tired of it. He didn't buy into the whole distribution of wealth like some argued, though he would use it if he needed to do so. His second attack was twofold: climate issues and the need for green technology. Both were popular and ancient, so going green had gone a long way to reform his organization's public image. Getting solar panels on every public building worldwide had been incredibly popular with the population. The electrical utilities hadn't been happy, but they'd found ways to work the system in their favor. Those that didn't died out or merged into larger companies.
The space program was in his sights and had been for some time. During the late twentieth and early twenty-first century, there had been some efforts from men like him to keep mankind firmly rooted on the home world. For a while they had succeeded. But once the genie had gotten out of the bottle, they'd found it all but impossible to get it back.
In many ways the space industry was the best thing for the planet. A quarter of all resources came from space. Nearly a third of all industrial production was in orbit as well, and that number was climbing as terrestrial companies moved to orbit to avoid the heavy taxes and restrictive laws on the ground. They moved their pollution to orbit as well and recycled it. Not that the layman understood that last part.
It was amusing in some ways when you looked at the history. Many of the people behind him and his organization were really after power. They saw the space-based megacorps as a threat or were just jealous of their power and reach. Many were cynical hypocrites. Their parents and grandparents had vehemently denied global warming. Now that it was here and they had to deal with it, they'd done a 180 and were all for rebuilding as long as they got a generous piece of the pie and their interests were not adversely affected.
Which was why the tall suave brunette Jean was in the studio. He wanted a piece of the pie, a seat at the head table he thought with a slight wry twist of his lips. He was on trial in a way; he was to be interviewed to lay out his political organization's point of view and drum up sympathy and interest.
He looked sharply to a man with earphones as he waved at Jean. Jean uncrossed his legs and took a sip of water. The man gave him a hand countdown. Jean nodded slightly and then settled himself.
“Mister Pierre, a pleasure to have you on the show tonight,” the reporter said, turning to him. The cameras switched to show them together.
“The pleasure is mine, Oliver,” Jean said, nodding. “Do please call me Jean,” he said with a hint of his French accent.
“Ah yes, Jean. I'm afraid I can't quite roll the J like you can,” Oliver said with a disarming smile. “We're on a bit of a time crunch, but I do have a few questions for you. The elections are coming up, not only the midterm elections for America in November, but also the United Nations elections in December. Your thoughts? Do you have any particular candidates in mind that your organization supports?”
“It is not, as you say, that simple, Oliver,” Jean said with a small smile. He took the opening to lay out his case. “My organization wants to bring jobs back to humanity. People should work here on Earth with easy commuting where their children can grow up. We can use telepresence communications systems to control robots in space. There is no need of the senseless risk we currently have.” He waved a hand. “Take for instance the deaths that are reported daily and those not reported,” he said then tisked, shaking his head. “Such loss of life is appalling and must stop. Also, the exposure to radiation must stop. Millions of people are being exposed every day to hazardous radiation. Eventually, they will come down with cancers or it will affect their children.”
“I see. You did mention telepresence. I believe that is being used by some companies, and you did mention radiation as a factor in returning people to Earth. But are those the only reasons?” Oliver asked.
“I'm glad you asked,” Jean said smoothly, hands in front of him flat to show he was relaxed. “All that money should be spent on Earth, going into Earth's economy to help rebuild our once beautiful world. Right now none of the megacorps pay taxes here. Yet they do business here. They refuse, so their greed is costing humanity trillions,” he said, voice gaining just a touch of anger.
“I see. That point has been brought up before,” Oliver said, with a nod. “I know the individual employees still have to pay taxes to their country of origin,” he said as Jean played with his One Earth ring. “And I know many of the megacorps are incorporated under Mars so they must pay some taxes there,” he said. Jean's lips thinned ever so slightly but then Mister Twist shrugged. “There have been numerous attempts to find ways to redress the problem here on Earth, including more import fees and other charges. Do you have any ideas on closing the loopholes?”
“It is a waste of money to go to the other planets. It is a drain on the intelligence of our beautiful planet and an insult to its civilization and its people,” Jean said, eyes flashing as his hands stilled. He made an appeal to patriotism. “Lagroose, Pavilion, Star Reach, and the other companies should pay taxes like everyone else and should pay for the resources they use. They should be on the ground helping to repair the planet,” he said stabbing his finger onto the table before him.
“Interesting.”
“It is only true. They should also be subject to the laws of the United Nations, not allowed to flaunt their independence. They are doing nightmarish things in orbit, things patently and rather highly illegal here on Earth. But because they are in orbit they are getting away with it. That has to stop. What if something they cook up gets out? A virus or bacteria they cooked
up gets loose and then it finds its way down here?” He asked, laying the seeds of doubt and fear. “Imagine it. Now imagine this. What if they did it on purpose?” He asked, staring into Oliver's eyes. “That's right, a bioengineered plague. They could do it, then make humanity pay to clean it up. And once cleaned up, continue to pay to keep the plague at bay with vaccines and such. It can happen.”
“A very frightening thought,” Oliver said, now unsure of his own feelings on the subject. Jean cocked his head, knowing he'd scored with a tough critic.
“Setting such frightening considerations aside for the moment, I am forced to point out that some companies have gone out of their way to help mankind. Public record shows that Lagroose Industries has helped out in many environmental crisis situations, like the last series of storms that hit the Eastern United States as well as the Tsunami that hit India and the west coast of Africa last year. They were also largely responsible for air drops of water filtration equipment to third world countries during the flooding of 2101. It is hard to imagine them as an evil corporation, sir,” he said.
“It is always easy to pretend to be good,” Jean said with a half-smile. “History records that many men, fine upstanding pillars of the community, had a dark side. They found ways to express it illegally. Remember the Alpha serial killer ten years ago? A fine pillar of the community Mr. Hydal was, and even when he was caught, he still generated sufficient doubt to cloud the issue and get away with murder! Only when his compulsion drove him to attack the wrong target and get him killed did his long bloody killing spree come to a halt.”
“True,” Oliver said, nodding. “I do remember that.”
“History also records many who supported piracy, kidnapping, the drug trade, and other hateful things,” Jean went on. “They washed their hands of such dirty deeds since they themselves weren't directly involved.”