by Mars Dorian
“Because of Earth’s first foray into space?”
“Almost,” he said with a knowing smile. “At first, the Martian and Venutian members of the Council considered naming it the Ares Explorer or the Star Venus, but that sparked controversy. Venus didn’t like Ares, and the Martians didn’t like Venus in the name. So Earth members compromised by picking the name of the smallest colony in the system—”
“—the Moon,” Tavio said.
Naveesh nodded. “Even the naming of a ship falls victim to colonial politics.” His eyes angled Dr. Eriksun. “Still, Moonshot is a great name. Feeling proud yet, Doctor?”
The Mooner shrugged. “Just because I was born on the Moon doesn’t mean I’m overly patriotic about it.”
Naveesh gulped down half of his cocktail but stayed vigilant. “Come on, Doctor, you must feel a smidge of pride.”
Dr. Eriksun played with her straw. “I’ve sworn allegiance to the Alliance, and that includes all colonies.”
“Very PC.”
“It’s basic decency.”
It sounded like an argument but the air remained free of hostility. The two seemed to know each other from before. Tavio decided to shut up for most of the time. He found it valuable to let others speak and learn from their behaviors. But when Naveesh started talking Dizengoff drive technology to the doctor, Tavio let his gaze travel around the bar. The tavern carried an ancient Wild West feeling with its wooden interior design, dancing bots, and loud singing and clapping. Tavio spotted an ancient jukebox system on the opposite side of the fake brick wall. An idea sprang to mind. “Let me show you a classic from Earth.”
He approached the jukebox and checked out the selection. Fifty bands in total, with four artists featured from the home planet. Tavio recognized his favorite—AstroTurf. He selected the album Hyper Night Drifter and tapped his shoes to the rhythm of jamming guitar riffs. A group of buzzed Martian veterans lay siege upon a round table and stared at Tavio’s direction.
“Whatcha lookin’ at, Earthie?”
12
The aggression stank like cargo cadaver but Tavio knew his priorities. The times of manly brawls belonged to a past life.
“Just getting into the mood of some AstroTurf grooving.”
All that did was set off the drunk veteran. The bald Martian lifted his brick-shaped body from his stool and waddled toward Tavio. “I don’t wanna hear your shitty Earth noise. This is Mars.”
“Technically, it’s Mars’s orbit. And we’re on-board an Alliance military station, which makes it intercolonial territory.”
The drunkard slitted his eyes in disgust. “Are you tryin’ to be funny?”
Brawler-alert, Tavio thought and adjusted his behavior. “This is a stereotypical situation, my friend. Why don’t we ditch the cliché and do something original—nod like gentlemen and return to our tables.”
It seemed to work. The drunkard squeezed his face and checked his boys back at the table, as if to ask for guidance. Tavio eased his stance and held out his hand, palm flat open to convey amiability. “Let’s have a peaceful night. What do you say?”
The drunkard responded with a well-placed uppercut to Tavio’s chin. He staggered backwards when the Martian followed with a punch aimed toward the captain’s right cheek. Tavio sidestepped the incoming fist but stumbled over someone’s leg and hit the ground. Dr. Eriksun and Naveesh bolted from their faux wooden chairs and rushed to his aid.
“I like clichés,” the Martian drunkard said. “Keeps things simple.”
“One way of looking at it.”
Tavio wiped the blood from his nose. The Martian stomped his foot and grinned with furious eyes. Alcohol and anger cooked up the red veteran.
“What’s up, Earthie? ‘Fraid of a lil’ fight?”
His comrades at the table cheered him on with raised glasses. Half of the tavern eyeballed the action. The other half focused their attention to everything but the fight.
“Why isn’t security coming?” Tavio whispered to Dr. Eriksun, who lacked any comforting words.
The Martian drunkard spurred on the crowd like a wrestler promoting his next attack. “Earth being a pussy again. Nothin’ new on that front.”
His buddies cracked up. Tavio feared the anger from the past boiling up. The savage emotion he should have buried long ago. The captain cursed at himself in silence and breathed in deeply. You’re better than this, Tavio. Remember the lessons of the Liquid Lancer—discomfort is the path toward change.
He didn’t want to fall into old patterns again and forced a smile as the blood snaked around his lips. “Skylander’s does sound like a good alternative.”
The doctor nodded with relief. Together, they turned toward the entrance and walked away. The bald Martian drunk raised his fist and flashed the separatist sign—the red planet’s F-bomb. “Yeah, you keep runnin’, Earthie. It’s why you lost the war.”
Technically, the war ended with a mutual peace agreement, but talking about interplanetary geo-politics with a boozed brawler proved as useful as counting dunes on Mars. Tavio ignored the drunk veteran’s curse volleys and reached the outside of the bar. Dr. Eriksun produced a napkin from her purse and wiped the blood from Tavio’s nose. “I must say I’m semi-impressed.”
He tried to spot her sarcasm but failed. “Dare to elaborate?”
“I was afraid you were going to rip that drunkard in half.”
“I’m not a savage, Doctor.”
“But you felt like it, didn’t you?”
She somehow could read his emotional state and left him hesitating. Tavio hated talking to emotion readers because they tended to dissect every reaction. Dr. Eriksun tilted her head. The rainbow holo-lights from the corridors made her nano-glitter flicker. “Some people are addicted to the pains of the past. Known suffering is more comfortable than unknown opportunity.”
“Mmm,” Tavio mumbled. “I’ve endured worse.”
Naveesh watched the two and waited for his turn to jump in. “Maybe a successful first contact with an alien life form will unite the colonies once and for all.”
It sounded like a naive idea too good to be true. But if Tavio had no hope, what was the point of him leading the mission? Maybe exploring the unknown would bring the best out in people. Maybe it would wash away the bloody past and lead to a future where humanity could rejoice in the wonders of deep space exploration together.
The doctor eyed her comlink time. “We better call it a night.”
The trio headed back to their crew quarters where everyone prepared for their last sleep in human-controlled territory. Tavio sent an update to his brother but kept quiet about the brawl. Quintan already disliked the Martians, and Tavio didn’t want to boost the bias. He finished the message and tried to sleep.
Eight hours until launch.
13//Day of launch
As always, Tavio couldn’t sleep. The second he dove into la-la-land, the nightmares hunted him down. He decided to take a downer and floated somewhere between sleep and a trance. An old meditation method helped him ease out the emotional trouble. He pushed the earlier altercation behind and focused his mind on the grand day, or sol, as it was called on Mars. When the alarm rang, his biometrical scanner showed him a weak sleep recharge and offered today’s calorie intake—about three thousand units. Tavio snapped up a vita bar from his nightstand and teamed up with his crew in the equipment room. Naveesh saluted him first and stood ready for engineering action. Dr. Eriksun winked at him and tiptoed toward the captain first. “I hope you had a rejuvenating sleep, sir.”
“It’s a work in progress.”
The doctor’s face darkened, but Tavio reassured her. “Don’t worry—I’m ready to branch out for the beacon.”
“I was worried yesterday’s event might have damped your mood.”
“Takes more than a Martian to bring me down.”
In the corner of his eye, he could see Sergeant Bellrog perking his ears and shifting. Tavio regretted his choice of words, but since Bellrog acted a
s if he didn’t care, he switched topic. “Naveesh?”
The engineer finished applying his gear and shot two gloved thumbs up. “I’m ready.”
“Good to hear.”
Tavio approached his locker section, grabbed the modular Alliance uniform and wrapped it around his frame. The smart nano-fiber adapted like second skin and felt like taut organic tissue.
Tavio led the crew through the corridor to the main docking bay. Hundreds of civilians and people from the press had swarmed the hangar. Camera droids floated over their heads and filmed the SAS Moonshot which remained shielded from the crowds by a gigantic, translucent composite wall. Tavio whistled. The prototype MARC class towered like a high-tech crone. The blueish metallic tint of the hull and the ring shape across its arrow-shaped chassis shone like a cybernetic jewel inside a gray steel structure. Pegasus Aerospace had accomplished a miracle. Tavio hoped the ship’s technology matched the marvel of its design. As he walked past the metal chairs set out for the unveiling, Kelly joined Tavio’s right side with her entourage. “What do you think, sir?”
The captain’s eyes swung around the crowded hangar. It could have been a concert at an industrial location. “The Alliance seems to be in desperate need of good coverage.”
Kelly sighed. “The wounds of the Colony War are ever present.”
Tavio pointed at his still swollen nose. “Believe me, I know.”
Kelly twitched, but Tavio decided to ditch the explanation. This grand moment of humanity surpassed his petty injury.
When Tavio and his team reached the main deck, they saw holographic anchor avatars from the Moon, Venus, Jupiter and Earth walking amongst the crowd and commentating on the event. With distances between colonies ranging in the hundreds of millions kilometers, the press couldn’t afford to send their reporters to each colony, so they used digital proxies transmitted via satellite arrays instead. One of the many technical wonders companies cranked out to keep the Alliance connected.
Tavio saw representatives from Pegasus Aerospace proudly explaining their ship technology to a group of selected people. He started sweating and addressed Kelly. “I hope you don’t want us to do interviews.”
“Pretend the press doesn’t exist,” she whispered. “It’s prestige for the Exo Protectorate.”
“Gotta spend those tax dollars.”
Tavio could swear he noticed a faint smile on Bellrog’s face. At least the brute seemed susceptible to Earth-based humor.
Kelly said, “Have you uploaded the ship’s schematics to your memory cell, sir?”
“Of course.”
“Splendid. Let me upgrade your memory with a quick real-time tour.”
She guided the crew toward the airlock section, cleared the decompression zone, and entered the SAS Moonshot. Tavio whistled for the second time. The interior design of the ship opposed the no-frills Martian architecture. Immediately, progressive private paramilitary art deco sprang to his mind.
Kelly explained. “We are in the lower deck which is the habitation zone. Here you’ll find the living quarters, the sickbay, the lab, and the escape pods close to the crew’s sleeping cubes and the captain’s office.”
She walked the crew to the upper deck using one of the two stairways. “On the second deck is the situation room for meetings and conferences. It also acts as the comm chamber for calls between the crew and the Alliance.”
Bellrog smirked. “Nothing beats a live-call with a delay.”
Tavio pitched in. “Pegasus Aerospace needs to up its technology if it wants to stay competitive.”
The Martian shrugged it off and glanced blankly at the translucent walls of the situation room.
They finally reached the most important part of the ship—the command station. An angular bridge with the crew consoles fanned around the captain seat in the central spot. Kelly gestured toward the empty space between the consoles. “Before you depart, I want you to introduce you to your final crew member.”
14
“Can you hear me, Aidos?”
A god-like voice sounded from the bridge. Colorful lights flickered near one of the consoles and danced around until a translucent man with circuit patterned skin materialized. He focused on the captain and saluted. “It will be a pleasure to serve you, sir.”
Kelly greeted the artificial man. “Aidos is more than a strong AI—he’s an all-round virtual intelligence in charge of the entire ship.”
Chief Engineer Naveesh flamed up. “Navigation, comm, piloting, offensive and defensive tactical maneuvers—Aidos does it all.”
Tavio greeted the AI with a boyish grin. “Hello, unemployment.”
Aidos’ kind eyes remained relaxed. “Don’t worry, Captain. An operation officer of your caliber can’t be outsourced.”
“Yet,” Bellrog said and touched a nearby console.
Kelly ignored the statement. “Chief Naveesh’s third brain layer is digitally linked to Aidos. The two have been working together for almost a standard year and are practically a marriage between man and machine.”
The engineer nodded with pride. “I’ve surpassed over five hundred flight hours, sir. Three hundred in real-time, the rest spent in VR. I can show you my logs.”
“No need to, Chief,” Tavio said. “Your words suffice.”
He sucked in the mint-flavored atmosphere of the commando bridge. Everything around here was more stylish, expensive, and efficient than any Alliance ship he had ever been on before. If all Martian companies built with this high standard, Earth’s engineering was in trouble.
Mission Master Kelly held onto her e-scroll and waited for the captain’s admiration to subside. “I’m glad you like the ship, sir. It’s the Exo Protectorate’s pride.”
“As it should be.”
Her iris rolled to the upper left corner which meant she accessed her comlink. “I’m afraid our tour time is over. We’re already sixteen minutes behind schedule.”
She checked on each crew member. “Your bodies are charged, your security checks are A-okay. Is there anything you’d like to know before you part?”
“All is good,” Bellrog said, the others either nodded or bowed.
“Very well. In the name of the Alliance, I wish you a successful mission. May your first contact be the next step of deep space exploration.”
“We’ll do what we can,” Tavio said and wondered about his lack of commitment. His mouth had answered before his brain could stop him.
Kelly nodded at every crew member and left the ship with calculated steps. Tavio and his team adapted to their smart seats and strapped in. The spine needles moved near the back of their heads to provide the stimulation liquids. Within a second, Tavio relived the joy of venturing into the void. A flood of sparkling sensations sizzled through his veins. Naveesh gave the engineering green-light and Aidos initialized the pre-flight checklist to run security scans one last time. The consoles lit up like cybernetic creatures emanating a digital glow. Through the optical sensors on the ship’s hull, Tavio could see the crowds of people waving on the other side of the translucent wall. Billions of colonists from around the sol system watched the event with eager anticipation, temporarily forgetting their problems.
Tavio swore to not disappoint them.
“We have the permission to launch,” Aidos said.
“Systems go,” Naveesh said.
“Captain?”
Tavio felt the soft surface of his seat’s armrest. The memories of past fleet missions crept back into his spine—the exhilaration and the fear. ‘If a venture doesn’t bear the chance of death, it’s probably not worthwhile’ Jackstadt once had said. Still, Tavio hoped humanity’s next chapter featured less bloodshed.
“Launch,” he said.
“As you wish,” Aidos said and ignited the sequence. The clamps detached from the outside hull. The docking tube retracted into the hangar wall. The chemical 360 degree sub-thrusters of the SAS Moonshot maneuvered the ship away from the docking bay and pushed it farther into space. As soon as the s
hip left the orbital station’s security perimeter, the AI switched from chemical propellent to Dizengoff drive control and plotted the course toward the terrestrial target planet.
Chief Naveesh reported, “Fusion drive is ready for plasma injection, sir.”
“Coordinates are set for exoplanet E405,” Aidos added.
This is it, Tavio thought. A bold new step for an Alliance seeped with trouble.
He wished Quintan stood by his side, sharing the exhilarating experience. His brother’s presence would have made the incredible moment an epic one.
Keep Earth safe while I’m out in the rim, Q.
15//Texas, NAC
Back on Earth, at the Training Center’s mess hall, Quintan Alterra watched the footage of his brother’s departure from the Martian Red Bastion space station on the wall screen. Every major feed channel featured the same clips and rolled them over and over again. Quintan thought the exaggerated news coverage was a desperate plea by the Alliance to wash away the many problems that had plagued the colonies. Seriously, every Alliance news channel hailed the operation as the greatest event to ever bless humanity. Alliance-loyal anchorwomen and men even used the same language to stress the successful collaboration between the colonies. Heck, every member on-board the Moonshot originated from a different planet. Moon, Venus, Mars. And, of course, the leader from Earth. A political correct setup which propagated the ‘Strength Through Unity’ scheme of the Alliance. But to see through the media ploy, you had to be an individually minded person willing to question the mainstream thought policing.
Like Quintan.
And unlike these drone colleagues around him cheering in the mess hall, pointing their sweaty and flabbergasted faces toward the live event. They celebrated harder than they had during the first announcement of the alien signal.
Quintan’s meaty lunch had cooled down to lukewarm room temperature. Although he had ditched breakfast, he couldn’t eat. When the news report had shown Tavio on the crew intro, Quintan mentally crossed out his brother’s name and inserted his instead. He pictured himself on the captain’s seat, instructing his crew and giving orders to head out toward planet E405. In a different dimension, a fair one, it would have been a reality.