Containment

by Christian Cantrell

  The Americans made the mistake of attempting to replace the overworked Space Shuttle fleet with the Orion spacecraft and Ares families of rockets which, to the general public, were indistinguishable from the command modules and launch vehicles used in the 1960's and 70's. Most of the world had already become bored with the space program by then which primarily revolved around providing the ISS with fresh crews and supplies, incomprehensible experiments, and probes whose discoveries were lost on the average tax payer. Going from the closest thing the world had ever seen to a real spaceship back to seemingly old-fashioned rockets did nothing to improve NASA's PR situation.

  The Russians, on the other hand, chose to abandon their much more powerful and advanced shuttle program after only a single unmanned, unpublicized flight in 1988, opting instead to stick with more conventional rocket systems due to budgetary restrictions. Although the Buran-Energia was the most sophisticated spacecraft of its day — more sophisticated, even, than the mighty American Space Shuttle — it never had the opportunity to imprint itself upon the world's psyche. Therefore, while the Russian space program was seen as stagnating, the perception of the American space program was that it actually took a giant step backwards, especially considering the number of times American astronauts had to bum rides into orbit on Russian Soyuz rockets.

  NASA was eventually forced to get out the manned space exploration business altogether due to massive spending cuts, and to begin looking to private industry for more practical and economical forms of innovation. Unfortunately, private industry rapidly discovered that there simply weren't enough eccentric thrill-seeking million- and billionaires in the world to fund the really serious work, and no priceless minerals, gems, or resources had been discovered within reach to entice the volume of funding needed to take mankind much past low-Earth orbit. There was still money to be had from the government, but most of it was controlled by scorned ex-NASA Program Managers who had warned the administration that it was a huge mistake to rely on private industry and were henceforth determined to prove themselves right.

  Unnerved by steady advances by the Chinese in satellite, rocket, and robot technologies, an entirely new White House administration decided to sink billions into helping NASA recapture their glory days by returning to the moon which, as it turned out, was more or less as they'd left it almost a century prior. Rather than another national triumph for which the president at the time had hoped, the series of missions were mostly met with mediocre television ratings, general consternation, an excess of merchandising, and a resurgence of the theory that the original lunar landings had been a hoax. The telescope assembled on the far side of the Moon succeeded in capturing some stunning images, including a few faint pixels of possible light pollution originating from a small rocky planet in the habitable zone of a nearby solar system, but on the whole, the Moon base the Americans began constructing was seen as a poor substitute for the manned mission to Mars which the public felt it had been promised.

  Worse than the perceived lack of innovation were the environmental concerns of the world's space programs. The average temperature of the Earth was gradually rising during this period which was shown to be caused by the same greenhouse phenomenon that keeps the temperatures on Venus so astronomically high. But rather than large amounts of carbon dioxide occurring naturally in the atmosphere as it does on Venus, Earth's increasing CO2 levels were caused by the ceaseless combustion of ancient carbon-based organic materials buried deep inside the Earth. The rising temperatures caused widespread climate change which, as predicted, led to severe global weather anomalies, drought, famine, disease, and, indirectly, increasing rates of genocide and several large-scale wars. Suddenly, images of American, Russian, European, and Chinese rockets launching amid massive plumes of exhaust became symbols of flippant disregard rather than bold exploration. Eventually, the billions of dollars that were being spent servicing the ISS and Moon projects fell victim to the prevailing slogan of the time: Earth First.

  With the exception of China, every nation with any sort of space program abandoned nearly every initiative they were funding. Hundreds of thousands of scientists and engineers lost their jobs and discovered the hard way that Ph.Ds in astrophysics and aerospace engineering didn't transfer well to other fields. Chinese Shenzhou rockets helped keep the lights on in the ISS by shuttling a few astronauts, cosmonauts, and taikonauts back and forth, but even this had to be done in relative secrecy.

  Less than three years later, funding for anything but the maintenance and replacement of the most critical military satellites had completely dried up. The Chinese were the only bidders on a series of contracts for bringing the last of the ISS and Moon Base personnel back to Earth, and for disassembling the dilapidated and failing International Space Station into small enough components that most of it would burn up in the atmosphere during a controlled deorbit.

  The world's first Space Age thus ended with a series of spectacular fireballs above the eastern Pacific ocean.

  CHAPTER FOUR

  Earth Elevator

  Graduates of the V1 education system didn't exactly have a wide array of career opportunities, but it wasn't in anyone's best interest to make them do jobs they didn't want to do. The Department of Education, along with representatives from every other department, decided they would form a committee of three panelists to hear any specific requests the graduates might have, discuss options, acknowledge their concerns, and ultimately determine who they would report to the next day. Most of the graduates knew exactly where they were going, and in fact had been groomed for service in a particular area since the time they first showed the slightest proclivity or demonstrated any talent at all. No one expected any surprises.

  The Career Committee was to hear ten cases per day for ten consecutive days, starting with the oldest graduate. Cam, who possessed the very rare combination of intelligence, coordination, and great physical strength, was assigned to the Infrastructure Department (Wrench Pod), and was expected to ascend quickly into an administrative role, if he chose to do so. His talents were perfectly suited for things like repairing robots, planning the construction of new pods, and long, arduous EVAs (the GSA still used the term "extravehicular activity" even though it made no sense in the context of V1).

  Because of the amount of work that went in to maintaining and expanding V1, about half of the graduates could expect Wrench Pod assignments. The Infrastructure Department had consistently lobbied the Education Department over the years to steer as many students as possible toward careers in the Wrench Pod because they were so understaffed and overworked. During the formation of the Career Committee, representatives from the Wrench Pod showed up to meetings only long enough to proclaim that they had no time for such diversions, and to remind other participants how important things like pressure balance valves and air circulation systems were. You really didn't want bitter, overworked, exhausted staff in charge of them.

  All the graduates took a great deal of interest in the first few Career Committee hearings. Cam was virtually mobbed as soon as he was far enough away from the doors of the Public Pod that the committee panelists couldn't hear the inquisition. Who was on the committee? What did they say? Where did he get assigned? When did he have to start? Cam reported that the whole thing actually went very smoothly and professionally. They simply asked him where he thought he could be of greatest service to V1, and why. They gave him a few minutes to respond, asked him to elaborate on one or two things at which point the decision was swiftly made that he would report to the Wrench Pod at 0700 the next day. The whole thing had only taken about 20 minutes. Since they had to get through nine more hearings that day, and still attend to some of their regular duties before going home, nobody saw any reason to drag the process out.

  Subsequent graduates reported similar experiences, and interest in the hearings gradually waned. Eventually, nobody wanted to spend the little time they had left before starting their careers interrogating their peers. Initially, Cam was considered th
e luckiest of the graduates since he was able to get his hearing over with first, perhaps even guaranteeing him the position he wanted, but then the youngest graduates were considered the most fortunate since they were enjoying the longest vacations any of them would probably ever have.

  Arik didn't follow all the drama, but he did know that Zaire was assigned to the Wrench Pod. She and Cam were warned by their friends and families that spending too much time together might not be good for their relationship, but they seemed excited about being able to see each other at work. Besides, if it got to be a problem, they could always request different shifts. Hani was going to the Play Pod, Syed to the Code Pod, and Cadie was assigned to the Life Pod where it was assumed Arik would be joining her shortly (she was a day older than he). They, too, would have to be conscious of their personal relationship, but there was no way the ODSTAR team was going to be broken up. Apparently Kelley himself had seen to that.

  Arik's was the ninth hearing on the third day. He waited outside the Public Pod until the next oldest graduate — a boy named Seth whose self confidence Arik had always admired — emerged and held the door open for Arik. The Public Pod had the only traditional physical swinging door in V1 since it was built before the prefabricated polymeth doors arrived. Nobody saw any reason to swap it out.

  "Good luck," Seth said blandly as Arik passed. He seemed entirely unimpressed with the outcome of his hearing. Arik felt some obligation to ask him what had happened, but the committee was inside waiting.

  The Venera Auditorium was probably the least appropriate setting for the Career Committee hearings, but it was the only space in V1 nobody else was using. There was a portable polymeth desk set up on the stage behind which the three panelists sat with their workspaces open in front of them (they were no doubt trying to keep up on comms as much as possible between hearings in order to minimize the amount of work they would have to get caught up on later). There was a single chair set up opposite the desk, placed just far enough away that its occupant would feel excluded from the group. The process of traversing the long aisle, passing in front of the rows of seats, ascending the steps, and crossing the stage seemed like absurd pageantry, but it helped that the three panelists were busy tapping on and muttering into their workspaces until Arik sat down.

  The panelist on the left was Fai, a stocky Chinese man who was one of the initial 20 colonists. He was in charge of what at the time was V1's very rudimentary computer systems, and went on to found and head up the Technology Department (he disliked the informal "Code Pod" designation). Fai was one of the few who could keep up with Arik's computer skills, although he had long since lost the intense curiosity and passion for discovery that was so apparent in Arik. Arik had always sensed in Fai a complicated intermingling of admiration and resentment toward him.

  In the middle was a tall, thin, balding man named Zorion whom Arik knew very little about, except that he was high up in the Energy Department, and that he knew as much about nuclear fusion as anyone on Earth or Venus. He seemed particularly sensitive to the awkward position that Arik was in, and was trying to comfort him with a deliberate but warm smile.

  Nobody would have guessed that the rightmost panelist was Arik's mother. L'Ree seemed the least engaged of the three, and still hadn't taken the time to look up from her workspace. Arik wondered what Fai and Zorion were thinking about L'Ree's behavior. They probably assumed that she had lost track of the schedule and didn't realize it was her son who had just taken a seat in front of them, but Arik knew that very little escaped his mother's attention. Arik did not dislike his mother, and as far as he knew, she did not dislike him, but their relationship had always been curiously distant. Perhaps now she was adding a little extra distance so that nobody would think she was giving her son preferential treatment. Then again, perhaps she was just being herself.

  Arik knew that L'Ree was considered one of the most beautiful women in V1, but her beauty was tempered by her fiercely serious nature. Although Arik was considered an intense young man, and everyone assumed he inherited his ambition and intelligence from his mother, their personalities were somehow entirely different — even at odds. Arik had once told Cadie that he and his mother simply never understood each other, and both had long since stopped trying.

  Zorion was the chairman of the panel, and according to all the accounts Arik had heard, was supposed to do most of the talking. He seemed to give L'Ree the opportunity to speak first, but when she insisted on remaining disengaged, he commenced the meeting himself.

  "Hi, Arik. Can you please tell us where you think you can be of greatest service to V1, and why?"

  Arik had played out dozens of scenarios in his mind, searching for the right way to present his proposal, but he couldn't think of any form of preamble or preface that would make what he wanted to say any less jarring, or make him seem any less like a dissenter. So he decided to just be blunt and direct, and ultimately to improvise.

  "I want to go to Earth."

  L'Ree looked up. Fai became instantly annoyed as if Arik had personally insulted him, but Zorion's expression told Arik that there was something in the response that he appreciated. Maybe he was just bored with the hearings, and welcomed a departure from the routine. Arik addressed him directly.

  "I want to start building the Earth elevator, and I think it should be our top priority."

  The term "Earth elevator" was used to refer to a series of processes, vehicles, and launch sites that would someday make bidirectional travel between Earth and Venus not just possible, but practical, and hopefully even routine.

  "Why?" Zorion said. He wasn't skeptical or judgmental. He seemed genuinely curious.

  "Because if we don't stay politically and culturally integrated with Earth, we'll become increasingly isolated, and if we wait until that happens, I think it'll be too late to build it."

  "We're not isolated," Fai said. "We're in constant communication with Earth."

  "I'm not."

  "Everyone who needs to be is."

  "Anyone who wants access to Earth needs to have it," Arik said. "And anyone on Earth who wants access to Venus should have it, too. If we allow ourselves to develop dramatically separate cultures, it will inevitably lead to conflict. We have to start thinking about that now rather than waiting until it happens."

  "This is ridiculous," Fai said with great exasperation. "This isn't even worth discussing."

  "I'd like to hear him out," Zorion said. "That's what these hearings are for, aren't they? Go ahead, Arik."

  "I think we have to stop thinking of V1 as a colony. Colonization inevitably leads to only one thing: decolonization. History has taught us that over and over again. The Earth elevator will turn V1 into an extension of Earth rather than a colony of Earth. People need to have the freedom to travel back and forth, and to share knowledge and culture. And most importantly, people need to be able to decide on their own where they're going to live and what they're going to do. They can't have those things imposed on them, at least not for their entire lives."

  L'Ree shifted in her seat and cleared her throat to let everyone know that she was about to speak. "Right now we do what we have to do, not what we want to do. When we need the Earth elevator, we'll build it."

  She went back to her workspace. Arik knew that in her mind, the matter was resolved.

  "It'll take years to build," Arik said. "Decades, probably. If we wait until we need it, it'll be too late. That's what I'm trying to tell you. We have to plan ahead. We always talk about it like it's inevitable, but if we don't make it a priority, it'll never happen. I don't believe the Earth elevator is a luxury or a novelty. I believe it's essential to the long term success of V1, maybe even to the long term survival of V1."

  "Do you have any idea what the escape velocity of Venus is?" Fai asked Arik. He seemed to be taking a different tack toward shutting this down and getting the hearing back on track.

  "10.46 kilometers per second."

  "And how do you propose we achieve a velocity of
10.46 kilometers per second without fuel?"

  "Obviously we would need some form of renewable propellant. And spacecrafts. And hundreds of other things that we need to start planning for now. I'm not saying it's not a lot of work, but I actually think it's going to be easier than most people realize."

  "Easier?" Fai was simultaneously amused and offended. "You call building a rocket out of materials we don't have, fueling it with propellant we don't have, and launching it from a site that doesn't exist easy? Just the heat shield alone for surviving reentry into Earth's atmosphere is impossible for us to build."

  "You're focusing on everything we don't have rather than what we do have," Arik said. "That's the difference between your generation and mine."

  Fai was clearly not accustomed to being talked to in this manner. He was an extremely well respected computer scientist, and although nobody would describe him as mean, he always insisted that his students and subordinates address him with due respect. Arik's words weren't spiteful, and he wasn't being intentionally irreverent; he was simply stating a relevant fact.

  "Tell us what components you think we already have," Zorion said.

  "First of all, we're not talking about building a two-way system. We obviously already have the launch sites, vehicles, and the knowledge and experience to get from Earth to Venus. Second, we're not even talking about getting from Venus to Earth. We just have to get from Venus to the Moon since we already have a proven system for getting back and forth between the Moon and Earth. That means we won't even need a heat shield."

  "What about fuel?" Fai said.

  "Until we figure out how to make our own propellant, we could easily get enough fuel from Earth to get us into orbit around Venus."

  "Orbital velocity maybe, but escape velocity is an entirely different story."