by Richard Gohl
“Okay. Captain Wing, I believe, and Captain Crompton, I’m Captain Welsh. This is deputy Yang. Guns, knives, knuckledusters… please.”
Shane and Charles looked at each other briefly then started shedding weapons. Two guns each.
“Thank you… and thank you,” said Welsh as two other guards took away the guns to an adjoining room.
“And Captain?” said Welsh to Shane. “That’s all I’ve got,” said Shane, hands raised.
“Yang…” said Welsh, nodding his head once, indicating that his colleague needed to examine Shane more thoroughly. Yang bent down and started frisking.
“That’s my leg,” said Shane. “Metal thigh bone. It got mashed about… oh, twenty-odd years ago.”
Welsh’s head quivered slightly back and forth, as his eyes moved up and down scanning
Shane’s body. He stopped, looked over at Yang, and waggled his forefinger up and down, again at Shane.
Yang moved his hands over Shane’s neck, shoulders, and arm, and then shook his head. “Oh…” said Shane with a chuckle. “That’s my shoulder socket. It’s amenium—the latest thing.”
“You are human, right?” asked Welsh. The smile was typically Napean—over-accentuated. “Just checking—we get all sorts coming through here, that’s all.”
The northern tip of the Napean city perched on red cliffs and the sea stretched away to the west. The exit point to the elevator was through a tunnel from inside the city itself.
They walked through to a small building along the northern wall, a large, stone stairwell took them down into an expansive basement.
After a few seconds, their eyes adjusted to the dimly lit interior of the bunker. On the far side of the room, directly in front of them, was a metallic door with a small double glass window. There were a number of controls at the left of the door and further to the left of that, two guards sat in a control room. Surrounding them were double doors on three sides, leading out of the area.
They were still flanked by the four guards. “It’s okay, guys; we’re guards too,” said Shane.
“We know,” said one of them.
“Relax. You’re going to be seeing a whole lot more of us,” said Shane, trying to make friends.
“Really?” said the same guard.
Shane moved forward and looked up through the window into the cylindrical shaft; light from the room disappeared into the emptiness. A small yellow sign with red lettering lit up, reading, “DESCENT.” A guard came out of the control room to the left and introduced himself to Shane and Charles as Smith, shaking both their hands.
“Who is coming down?” asked Shane.
“Oh, no one. The carriage lives up there, that’s all—on its way down now. It is just a precaution.”
“You use it much?”
“No, not really. The Lunatex pipeline has had more use than the elevator—it’s delivered tons and tons of that stuff down here, but all moon ore delivery was suspended about six months ago.”
“Why?” asked Shane.
“They’re stockpiling it on the ships—been building ships too,” said Smith. “Gee, you know a lot,” said Charles, sounding somewhat naïve.
“I see all sorts of things from here.”
Through the window Shane could see the circular carriage of the space elevator. “This is crazy,” said Shane excitedly. “How come I’ve never been on this before?”
Shane was amazed at what had been created. All the rumors, the half-truth, the talk was coming into sharp focus.
“Wouldn’t catch me on it,” said Smith. “Don’t like heights?” asked Shane.
“It’s not that so much as… have you seen how much it moves around?”
“Seen it? No one even knows where it is!” Shane exclaimed. “I mean, I’ve been head of security in Belair for years and I thought this thing was out in the desert somewhere.”
“It can be moving up to twenty meters in strong wind…”
“Great…” said Shane, quite brightly—and he meant it. The feeling was all too familiar. Napeans had spent a lifetime saying yes to virtual danger and consequently had no sense of fear. Plunging into extreme, if synthetic, experiences was part of the culture. The elevator guard continued: “It won’t break and you won’t know you’re moving. Cold, too; gets minus a hundred when you’re about eighty K’s up there.”
“What? There’s no heating in this thing?” asked Charles at the top of his voice.
The guard laughed a slow chuckle. “Yes, there is. Sorry.” It was a typical Napean joke where one laughed at the other’s total lack of perception.
“Seriously, the only thing that has ever caused delay are the elves and the sprites.”
“Elves?” said Shane.
“High altitude lightning phenomena—generally accompanying a storm down here, though. So if it’s clear here, you should be clear up there.”
The elevator was a tube, five meters in diameter. Its power derived from the space vacuum high above, very much like the siphoning of liquid. Made from high tensile, hollow carbon nanotube filaments, it had the ability to sway and bend while being anchored in space. Its photonic covering made it practically invisible; its color fluctuated to mirror the surrounding light quality. Sometimes one could see what looked like two strands of fishing line extending out of sight—the edges of the elevator. Its bottom section looked like it was simply part of the skyscraper that was the Service research and storage facility. As it stretched on upwards it was effectively invisible due to the chameleon-like qualities of its walls.
There were two separate carriages—one on top of the other. One carriage had the capacity to lift about forty people. They could travel in tandem or separately depending on demand. Steps lead up to a small platform connected to the upper carriage.
The top of the elevator was anchored two thousand kilometers from the Earth’s surface in space to a long counterweight and this anchor point was further attached to a system of tether lines. Connected to this network but much closer was a docking station and an array of other spacecraft, including Lunatex’s ore distributor, six shuttles, and the ships of the first fleet.
“Okay,” said Smith. “There it is. Sounds quiet, but that’s because it’s behind two vacuum-sealed doors—wait ‘til you’re in there!”
The guard entered a code on the wall panel to open the outer door to the upper carriage. With some effort he lifted a lever, sealing the elevator pipeline from above. He then unscrewed a wheel. The outer door opened revealing the carriage within and another handle, inset, which opened the inward swinging hatch.
The guard extended his arm towards the elevator. “That’s it. Up you go. Enjoy, gentlemen.”
Shane and Charles climbed the steps and entered. The four stony faced guards followed. The first thing they noticed was the thick, black, rubbery insulation both underfoot and around the walls. While this covering was soft the blackness of the interior produced an oppressive claustrophobic feeling which overpowered the spaciousness. It was dimly lit with a single light from above on one side. There were no windows or chairs.
When the door was shut, the outer hatch seal was pressurized with a metallic crack. Instinctively Shane moved over and stood with his back to the wall, placing both palms
flat against it. Charles did something similar, and then they both realized that no one particular place was better to stand. It was a perfectly round space—like being sealed inside a tin can. The guards, too, stood around the outer wall of the carriage, saying nothing. Shane couldn’t contain his excitement.
“You guys been on here before?” One of the guards nodded. “What about the rest of you?” They nodded too.
“Okay,” said Shane. “You all seem a little apprehensive. Should I be worried?”
One of them shook his head. Shane looked at Charles and shook his head, mimicking the guard.
A tremendous wind sucking noise was heard as all air was lost from the colossal cylinder high above.
This was followed by some heavy vi
brations, creaking, and rumbling, which all then suddenly stopped. At this point the elevator carriage began to lift, silently and quickly towards space. It was a strange sensation. Both of them widened their stance to take the weight increase. It took thirty-five minutes for the ride to come to a sudden but soft landing. Whereupon they realized that they had no weight at all. Their exclamations of surprise and awe as they struggled to maintain control were cut short by sounds similar to those at departure but in reverse. They felt the carriage being moved sideways into some kind of dock, and then they regained their weight, dropping to the floor.
The door opened onto a chamber that looked to be part of the elevator itself. This then opened onto an external docking tunnel that was part of a space station shuttle. The two Napeans were welcomed by several guards, who accompanied them into a tunnel-like walkway. And there through a window came their first glimpse of the Earth.
They both stood there in silence marveling at the spectacle. Shane had to consciously think about breathing. Charles kept rubbing the top of his head as if to check that the situation was real. What was obvious were the eight cables attached to the top of the elevator and running off in different directions, out of sight. This space elevator was not on the equator, and so therefore required metal tether lines, thousands of kilometers long. These had been attached to the tops of equatorial pylons. All elevators worldwide, at higher or lower latitudinal lines, were also attached to these and each other. They also served as tram-style transit for space vehicles travelling from station to elevator or ship to ship. The Earth was all tied up.
Shane saw the anchor cable connected the top of the elevator continuing off in a direction perpendicular to the Earth’s surface for as far as the eye could see.
One of the guards reminded them that they had somewhere to be. “Gentlemen.”
“Yes. Okay,” said Shane, still blinking at the window. They followed the guards down the
Tunnel, realizing that it was only a shuttle and it too was “connected” to the cable network. The interior was quite dark, except for tiny yellow lights along the floor. There waiting for them was a fifth guard.
“Have a seat,” he said.
“Where are Jeffery and co.?” asked Shane.
“On the Sapphire—it’s only five minutes. You can see it—it’s the one closest to us.” The guard pointed through the front window and there they were: five identical spaceships. “They’re pretty much the same except on the inside. The Sapphire is full of plants and bio-med stuff. You guys will be on that.”
“Wow,” said Shane in awe. “They’re beautiful like giant black eggs! Which is the front?”
“Both.”
“Huh?”
“They’re completely reversible. That’s how they stop. The actual mortet funnel inside concentrates all the axion power—the whole funnel—the engine, is flipped one-eighty degrees, to stop the ship.”
“Okay. Are you on that ship?” asked Shane.
“No. I’ll be on the Jade—two thousand Napeans,” said the space guard. “Already three hundred or so on that one.”
“What do they do?” asked Shane. “Mining, engineering…”
“Are they Napeans?”
“Yes,” said the guard. “Most of them are, I think…” He added, “Some of them are quite young. They imported a pile of Sub kids from South America—Bogota, and… Santiago, it was. Couldn’t speak Contro—I remember that!” he said, chuckling.
“And they’re all on the Jade?” clarified Shane. “The one on the far end.”
“What are the other ships called?” asked Charles.
“You got The Emerald, The Dark Crystal, The Jade, The Black Pearl, and yours is the Star Sapphire.”
“Why so many ships?” asked Charles.
“Apparently, that’s as big as you can go, structurally,” he said, gesturing toward the Sapphire, “at the speeds we’ll be reaching.”
“What’s that?” asked Shane.
“The universe has a speed limit of…” The guard scratched his head trying to recall the number.
“You can’t go much faster than… in the old language: one thousand million kilometers per hour.”
“Hell, is that all?” said Shane. They were both on information overload. “What’s that going to do to flesh and bone?”
“Put it this way,” said the guard. “You won’t feel a thing!”
Charles, unconcerned with this enigmatic answer, continued the line of questioning. “Do we have any control over the ship at that speed?”
“Minimal… in the first two months we have to be a little careful as to watching where we’re going—but after that we can give it some juice, because there’s no need to change course; there’s absolutely nothing out there. The only other problem will be stopping in the right place—in about four years’ time.”
Neither Shane nor Charles had realized they had docked. “Here we are!” said the guard. “Enjoy your meeting!”
Chapter 47
The Space Station
THE SPACE STATION was made up of about a dozen different ports and more walkways, resulting in an expansive central area. Each Port had its own designated technical support and workshop areas and there was clearly a lot going on in these places. The central room however was comparatively quiet—a few guards sat watching an array of screens, keeping an eye on those working out in the vacuum. The Earth loomed big and blue through one set of windows. Shane tried to use his mental compass to get his bearings and realized, out here, there weren’t any.
Many of the interior walls were of a transparent material. As Shane and Charles were led down a walk way, Shane slowed almost to a stop several times, fascinated to see what was going on inside. Then looking ahead he saw that the walkway led straight to a large office, where three figures sat like members of a panel, left to right across a long, rectangular table. Their guard announced them at the door:
“Captains Wing and Crompton,” then: “Servicemen Pato, Jeffery and Magellan.” The officials looked like men in their twenties and watched Shane and Charles make their way across the floor. “Hello.” said Shane. The three remained seated so Shane and Charles simply sat at the two chairs provided. A guard stood at the left of the table, one just outside the door and another inside the room on the far wall. The three said nothing. Several of them nodded and exchanged looks as if making some silent assessment.
Shane started talking first, addressing the elephant in the room. “So here the three of you are, all… very different …that is very unusual.” Shane looked at Charles as if to say “Can you believe this?” They did not look Napean.
Magellan replied, “We’re sorry about the loss of your son…”
Straight to the point, thought Shane who had forgotten to be in mourning.
Jeffery took over: “We had to act… as you know that group of rebels were planning wholesale sabotage…” Jeffery had an annoying trait of trying to make eye contact with everyone while he was speaking. Rather than making him look sincere (which was the intention), it just made him look more like a clown with head swinging from side to side and eyes widening as they came to each person. Many Napeans, especially the older ones, had developed strange facial twitches—the existence of which they seemed unaware. Jeffery had the charismatic eye- flare, especially when listening.
Pato had a peculiar quirk of tilting his head back and allowing his mouth to gape right open as he listened to someone talk. But when he talked his head jutted forward. This he now did and added “there wasn’t enough time for us to clear the underground settlements… we couldn’t risk all this.” His arm swept in a wide arc.
Shane tried to pay attention to what Pato was saying but could only think: “That’s why they never wanted anyone to see them! They’re all different.” Jeffery had an apish look about him. His dark hair was trimmed to a bowl and he was of short and stocky build. Pato was slightly taller, with brown shoulder length hair, slightly built and bore an unfortunate smirk. His hands had a life of their
own; each one in motion constantly enveloping the other. Both Service officials were dressed in brightly cultured “commander” suits—a style used in the Napean guard. Magellan, just as Shane expected seemed cut from a different cloth. Tall, rather terse looking, he wore an insulative, tight fitting dark space suit.
“I know what you must be thinking…” said Magellan. “Don’t worry, we are Napeans. We were among the first to trial N.E.T. We donated our bodies to our friend and colleague, Sydney Popper. We had the treatment in its early form.”
“Daily blood transfusions!” said Pato grinning.
“To business,” said Jeffery, eyeballing individually, everyone in the room. “Firstly Wing, I wanted to clarify, when you finally found the rebels: is it true they had your son?”
“They did.” said Shane
“Rather awkward?” asked Jeffery.
“Well it was… it was at that point I was captured. That was very awkward.”
“How did they access our files?” asked Pato.
“That information, I’m afraid, has gone to the grave with Wez Carter and his associates. It seems he hacked his way into the system and with their help was able to navigate his way around the network.”
“Clearly a genius.” Said Magellan. “Not anymore.” Answered Shane. “And Crompton…”
“Yes Sir,” said Charles sitting more upright.
“We must thank you for your part in all of this. We were reliant on you to make contact with Wing. Well done.”
“Thank you Sir.” said Charles.
“As you know,” continued Magellan, “we are planning an exodus requiring 300 plus elevator trips. We’ll be relying on you to ensure everything runs smoothly. It’s the culmination of many, many years of research and work. As you know, we have had to bring forward the departure date.”
“The final phase,” said Jeffery, fixing his most significant gaze, firstly on Shane, “the final phase of pioneer first fleet must be carried out with the utmost attention to security. Any