Kato's War

by Andrew C Broderick

  “Will do. Arvid out.” Lana breathed in deeply, and exhaled slowly through puckered lips. She looked up at IIX again. She would fly again sooner than anybody thought. A lot of lives would change tonight—assuming they could rope in enough crazy volunteers. For the better or for the worse? Hardly for the better. Until one counted Zara into the equation. It was impossible to even make a guess as to how it would all turn out.

  In the half hour that Gansevoort had been accelerating, she had traveled far enough that Philip and Martin could easily see right across Earth from one side to the other. The one G flight felt very comfortable. Kato twisted around in his flight seat, it remolded itself to his side-on body shape as he did so, and looked over his left shoulder. The floor of his cabin had dissolved away, to show the view outside as clearly as though it were unobstructed. The North Pole was a strange shape, he thought. The ice shelf kind of jutted out over the north Atlantic, and then swept back to reveal a vast area of open sea above Newfoundland. So, the environmentalist scaremongers of the 21st century were wrong. Even with all that had happened in 200-plus years, it was still pretty much the same.

  Kato’s eyelids began to droop. Maybe sleep would relieve the sickness he felt? Or at least numb it for a while. Or not. Kato rolled over to his right side, struggling awkwardly under the straps fastened around him. The smart material didn’t quite adjust to his body’s movement fast enough. The wall to Kato’s right was clear, and he could see Martin next door. He was also still awake. “Martin?”

  “Yes sir?” Martin rolled onto his left side, facing Kato, with similar awkwardness.

  “How long was our flight time supposed to be?”

  “Fifty-five hours.”

  “Hmm. Okay. Wait…” Kato blinked a few times. “You know what?”

  “What?”

  “Mars and Ceres are in opposition at the moment! So, going to Mars is only going to put us further away from Ceres!”

  A pause from the next room, and then a groan.

  “So, is there really any point in going to Mars?” Kato asked.

  “Um… well…” came the red-faced reply. After a short pause, Martin said: “Emotional support, maybe?”

  “Well… I guess so… I know more people on Mars than on Earth. Life seems simpler there, somehow, enclosed in a ten-by-ten kilometer box… less political tidal forces, a pretty uniform level of technology and affluence…”

  “Yeah.”

  Kato looked off into the distance, past Martin. “This whole thing is my fault,” he said.

  “What?”

  “Zara’s abduction. Seung Yi even being here in the 24th century.”

  “How so?”

  “If it weren’t for my predicament, Zara would never have come to save me, and she wouldn’t even be alive now. Plus, I created the monster in the first place.”

  “Whoa! Slow down! Did you ask Zara to come and save you?”

  “No.”

  “Did she run it by you first?” Martin asked.

  “Of course not! She knew I’d have disapproved of every aspect of what she did.”

  “There you go, then. She was, and is, a grown woman, and she made her own decision. Let’s face it, how likely is you guys’ even being recovered, never mind alive and well?”

  “About a chance in a billion.”

  “Exactly. No way you could have known. And as for creating the monster, how do you figure?”

  “I employed Seung Yi, knowing what type of person he was, and knowing he had stolen IP that he was bringing to the table. Therefore I, by extension, stole it.” Kato sighed. “Karma was a bitch. I had no idea just how big of a bitch it was going to be, and that was just in the 21st and 22nd centuries!”

  “Call from Akio Nishimura,” Kato heard in his earpiece.

  “Answer.”

  “Kato-san!” came the excited greeting.

  “Hi Akio.”

  “I’ve been exonerated!”

  “Oh… uh… great!”

  “Yeah! They dumped my memory, and…”

  “Whoa! They can read your memory?!” Kato sputtered.

  Akio’s speech slowed to a more conversational speed and tone. “Oh.. uh… let me explain. Enhanced memory is an option for implanted individuals. I got it. It digitally records everything you ever see, hear, feel, and so on. Well, if you’re accused of a crime, you can authorize them to download your memory. People don’t do it very often, because it lets people see your most intimate moments… but it’s a way to clear your name, as a last resort.”

  Kato was quiet for half a minute. “I’m sorry I doubted you, Akio-san.”

  “No, no, it’s completely understandable. I would have too, if I were in your situation.”

  Kato noticed Martin looking at him hard, perhaps trying to figure out the conversation from only hearing his side of it. “Yes,” he said to Akio.

  “Are you still in Tokyo?”

  “No. I’m headed to Mars. On Gansevoort, no less.”

  “Oh! Okay... Well, please let me know if I can help in any way.”

  “I will. Thanks for letting me know,” Kato said.

  “No problem. I’m praying for Zara, as is the whole world, I believe.”

  “Right.”

  “Goodbye, Kato-san.”

  “Goodbye.”

  Kato focused on Martin again. “That was Akio. He’s been cleared of any wrongdoing.”

  “Great!”

  “Yeah.”

  Kato couldn’t fight it any longer, and drifted off into deep slumber.

  Chapter 30

  Lana floated, still in her business suit, in the metallic, utilitarian main hub of Spaceport A. It, too, was attached to the surface of Phobos, a few hundred meters from the Space Engineering Facility. Six spokes radiated out across the surface for 100 meters or so, to the docking ports. Four of the six ports were occupied by spacecraft. Lana looked out of the large window, north east across Phobos’ rocky, pitted, gray surface to port three. It was night time on the populated side of Mars, whose day-night cycle drove Mars Standard Time. However, Phobos, 6,000 kilometers from the surface, was in daylight. Docked nose first at port three, was the freighter Onondaga. Since she was a surface-to-space transport, she was shaped aerodynamically, with a beetle-shaped fuselage, a rounded nose, and short wings that curved up like a bird’s wings as they began a downward flap. She was roughly as long as a car ferry, and colored dark gray, with a large, white MSF logo on the side.

  The six men who floated to Lana’s right looked at her with grave expressions. Among them was Arvid, a short man with black hair, parted on the right, and combed over. All the men but Arvid wore dark green flight suits. “This is insane,” one of the others to Arvid’s right said. Arvid looked at him and spoke up in his Russian accent: “Yes, it is. No other way to describe it. However, we’ve got a job to do. There’ll be time enough for reflecting later.”

  “Agreed,” Lana said, in a take-charge tone. “Now, this is the image we have of MX9’s depot from orbit.” A map, showing a large area of flat, rusty, Martian surface was projected in the air. Dotted across it were piles of stark, angular objects, which stood out in sharp relief like the inner parts of a CPU chip under high magnification. Around the edges were what looked like high mounds of dirt. At the top was a rectangular building. Lana pointed at the map. “These look like piles of ablators. All twenty of the standard sizes seem to be here, but it’s hard to make out which is which at this resolution.” The others scanned the image closely. “It’s one hundred ten kilometers north west of Marineris, give or take. You guys’ job is to find the stack for size 2A, get twelve of them, and get back here.” The crewmembers nodded.

  “I don’t have to tell you how critical this is, or what the obstacles are,” Arvid said to the crew. “It’s night time down there, and there’s a huge sandstorm k
icking up.”

  The pilot, a short but well-proportioned man with dark hair parted on the left, said: “Yeah, we know. There’s already a warning from Marineris Spaceport that traffic in and out of there might be suspended. The storm will likely be a thousand kilometers wide, so it won’t be any better in the badlands north of there. However, we will do it. For Zara.”

  “For Zara,” Lana echoed. “Godspeed, guys.” Lana and Arvid watched as the five crewmembers pushed off from the hub and floated toward the waiting ship at port three. Once they were out of earshot, she turned to Arvid and said: “I have fifty-five engineers ready to help so far. A dozen or so voicemails have come in since I’ve been here with you guys, so I’ll see how many more we have. Hopefully we’ll reach a quorum soon.”

  Arvid nodded. “Thank God it’s a Saturday,” he said, “so we can work undisturbed. And unnoticed.”

  Martin awoke. Time check. Twelve hours had passed since they fell asleep. He must have been very, very tired. He unbuckled, and sat up groggily. Total silence. Traveling on Gansevoort was a surreal experience: the opulence, speed, and apparent Earth gravity. He looked down through a viewport in the floor. Earth and the Moon were now visible only as small dots; a gray one on the left, and a larger blue one on the right. Looking around through the walls, the stars and Sun blazed vibrantly.

  “Message from Lana Kasun.”

  “Play.”

  “Martin, we’ve got a rescue mission on the works! Kirsti doesn’t know. I wanted to be sure we at least had a chance of pulling it off before I called you back. We have one hundred forty-six engineers and nineteen astronauts. That’s enough people to get IIX flying again. Bye for now. I’ve got a lot to do.”

  “Whoa…” Martin said slowly, his eyes wide with shock. “Message to Lana: where are you getting ablators from?”

  Then, Martin turned to his right. “Kato!” No response. “Kato!” Silence. “Goddammit!” he muttered under his breath. He walked out of his stateroom, into Kato’s room, and shook Kato awake.

  “Um… uh… hi, Martin. What’s going on?”

  “Kato, there’s a rescue plan under way. The MSF are going to try and use IIX to intercept Zara.”

  Kato almost shrieked, opening his eyes wide. “Oh, my God! How did you find out?”

  “I… uh… I asked them to do it.”

  Kato blinked several times, staring off somewhere over Martin’s right shoulder, as Martin stood next to his flight seat. “Oh…” He unstrapped, and sat up, with his feet dangling to the floor over the left side of the bed, his back to Martin. He looked down through the floor, at the rapidly receding Earth. “We’re going to make it to Mars in time, right?”

  “Yeah. Forty-three hours to go.”

  “And how long does Zara have left?”

  “Ninety-two hours and fifty-eight minutes.”

  Kato was quiet and contemplative. Martin put his hand on Kato’s left shoulder. What could he say? He couldn’t imagine being in Kato’s shoes, as the clock ran out on his daughter’s life. “Think we can get to Mars any faster?” Kato asked.

  “I um... don’t know. Let’s ask. Pilot?”

  “Yes sir?” came the disembodied voice from the cockpit.

  “Can the ship go any faster?” Martin asked.

  “Yes. Gansevoort can actually run at four G.”

  “Four G?!” Kato exclaimed.

  “Is it safe to push her that hard all the way there?” Martin interjected.

  “Yes, it’s well within her stress tolerances,” the pilot said. “It’s us humans that are the limiting factor.”

  “Is it something you’re willing to do?” Martin asked.

  “It’ll be a rough ride. You’ll be stuck to your seats, hardly able to move. Forget getting up to eat or go to the bathroom. It will cut the remaining transit time of forty-two hours in half, though. We’ll be there in twenty-one hours.”

  “Hot damn!” Martin said. “I’ll bet that’s a record. Even with the thirteen hours we’ve already been underway.”

  “It is,” the pilot said. “I know your situation, though, so I’m willing to do it. Once I check the steward’s up for it, we can go ahead and throttle up. I’d advise you to get some breakfast first.” Once the first meal of the day was over, Kato and Martin retired to their rooms again and made themselves as comfortable as they could. Then, Gansevoort’s power was unleashed. The acceleration built. And built. Martin braced himself. His personal record was two gravities. That was soon surpassed. Was there an invisible elephant sitting on his chest? Breathing required extra effort. His arms were pinned to his flight couch. Even scratching an itch was like lifting a weight. His cheeks were pulled back by the immense acceleration. Okay, discomfort be damned, Martin thought. They were going to get there and help the rescue effort as soon as humanly possible. If other people were putting themselves on the line, then so would they.

  Chapter 31

  Seung Yi stood on a narrow walkway a hundred meters above the bottom of a vast chamber. The space was circular, about twice the size of a football stadium. He looked up at the wide bank of elevator tubes coming down from the center of the ceiling to a central control room. Seung Yi had just descended through forty kilometers of rock. His eyes tracked across the curved ceiling, the color of sandstone, illuminated by upward-facing floodlights. It was hewn smooth by robots, from the interior of Ceres. Towering above him were cylindrical machines, which reached almost to the roof. They were shafts of brushed silver, thirty meters across. The exteriors bore more floodlights, and at the level of the network of walkways that ran between them, were status panels. He then looked down over the handrail, to the cavern’s floor far below. It was deserted, save for a few robots moving along roadways. The whole scene was eerily silent.

  The control room was thirty meters to his left. It was round, and its silver exterior bore windows that looked out in all directions. Inside, a knot of white lab coated scientists bore anxious, expectant expressions, as they watched Seung Yi. After he had taken in the vast space for a few minutes, he walked back into the room. Its circular interior was covered with control panels and glowing displays.

  One scientist, a gray haired fellow a little taller than the others, said: “Welcome Master Yi, to the Advanced Antimatter Facility. This is the beating heart of Entara.” He paused for effect. There was none. He continued: “I am a fourth generation scientist on this project. As you know, this facility has existed for eighty years, to manufacture and store large quantities of antimatter. The machines you see outside”—he gestured towards the open door—“are enclosed stacks of zero point sources. They feed terawatts of energy to two hundred particle accelerators, occupying another vertical kilometer below us. However, the real innovation in being able to safely store large quantities of antimatter.” His eyes lit up. “In chambers several kilometers below the cyclotrons, we utilize strong atomic forces, in the quantum realm, to create repulsion fields. This allows antimatter to be contained, so that it doesn’t come into contact with matter. It takes a huge amount of energy to maintain the fields.”

  Seung Yi’s brow furrowed. He nodded slowly. “What, may I ask, is the purpose of storing this much antimatter?”

  The chief scientist paused. “It’s for weaponizing, should the Dynasty need to defend itself,” he said slowly.

  Seung Yi’s pupils contracted. “So, as for stored explosive power, one kilogram of antimatter is known to be able to create an explosion of just under forty-three megatons. How much antimatter do we have?”

  “Twenty four thousand four hundred eighty tons.”

  Seung Yi was speechless, and looked as though he had been punched in the gut. “How much explosive power is that?” he eventually spat.

  “One point oh five quadrillion tons of TNT.”

  Seung Yi blinked several times. “Quadrillions of tons?
What threat, exactly, requires such force, even assuming we could weaponize that much of it?”

  The gray-haired man stepped back, away from Seung Yi. “It’s a hedge against the unknown, Master,” he said, with a trace of fear in his voice. “The then High Councilor decided we should prepare for any eventuality.”

  “I see. Makes a semblance of sense, I suppose. Let me see the control panel for the containment fields.” Seung Yi was directed to a three-by-two meter flat midair display near where the glass elevator tube opened into the center of the room. On it was displayed a large grid of bottle shapes, against a black background. Below each, glowing numerals read 100%. He studied it for a minute, and then turned to the chief scientist.

  “What if some rogue were to disable the fields?”

  “The resulting explosion would of course be catastrophic. It would swallow Entara whole, and likely vaporize any asteroids within several million kilometers.”

  “I assume it is password protected?”

  “Yes, Master. The password is known only to me.”

  “I want the password. Then I’m going to change it, so it’s known only to me. There is no reason for anyone else to have access to this.”

  “Y… Yes master. There are three. They are: 8WSEDRFJGT8, GFDJGSD8FD, and HLA98E8KGOEJ.”

  Chapter 32

  The overhead strip lights glinted from IIX’s silver hull, their diverging reflected lines highlighting its convex bulge. Kato and Martin looked up at IIX, through the glass wall of the hangar-sized clean room. All around the ship was a hive of activity. White suited technicians swarmed underneath. Bins of parts dotted the floor, which curved up slightly as their eyes followed it into the distance. Hoses snaked from ports on the ground to tools in the men and women’s hands. Four large scissor lifts, each holding several people, were extended up to the open port in the ship’s belly. Dark gray tentacles sprouted up from various points near the giant room’s walls, up over the ship. Each one bore a lift gondola, containing one or more engineers, who pored over the top and sides of IIX’s hull.