by Brin, David
Hep, Adam, and one employee lived on an island, about the size of a small town, in the South Pacific. To render the island invisible to air observation, it was covered by an electronic shield which was overlaid by a hologram. The hologram looked exactly like the surrounding air and sea.
Ivar, the employee, was a towering six foot five. He looked incredibly intelligent, with his high forehead and piercing blue eyes. In fact, when anything involved more than rote learning, he was incredibly stupid. He was also incredibly loyal, an incredibly good cook, an incredibly efficient valet and handyman, and an acceptable pilot. He flew an antique jet, which he kept in impeccable flying order. The man loved that plane. He belonged to the Antique Jet Society but wasn’t the least bit sociable. He belonged to the Society because it gave him landing privileges in the Society’s assigned space at most of the world’s airports.
Of Adam’s and Hep’s five kids, four were male, one female. Five of the dozen missing billionaires were the kids’ undocumented mates. The five siblings resembled their parents. The mates were of varying colors and looks. But they all shared Adam’s and Hep’s searing intelligence as well as their ruthlessness. Early on in their children’s lives, Adam and Hep, after observing them closely, determined each of their interests and talents. Bryan, for instance, as a little boy was fascinated by all animate moving things. He would squat for hours watching a gecko going about its gecko-ish business. As soon as he could talk he would tell Hep what he had observed and would speculate on why the critter did it. His interest was maintained and encouraged all the way through grad school. When he received his doctorate in zoology, his PhD thesis was on the adaption of cellular membranes to cold and other extreme environmental conditions.
The other four kids were similarly observed and channeled into careers that were not only compatible with their interests but essential to the success of their mission.
Their early education was unique. Adam and Hep imported the eight most competent, compassionate grade school teachers that could be found. They were paid on the same scale as the hospital doctors. But they had to promise to remain on the island until the youngest of the kids finished the eighth grade. At the end of that time they could take their millions and return to the mainland. Ivar would pilot them there right after a farewell dinner and drink. None of them ever arrived home.
The same procedure was followed for the kids’ high school years. But the teaching was so effective and the kids were so bright that every one of them tested directly into the junior year of their chosen university, no two of them to the same school. Then they went on to graduate school and from there into the world where, under their father’s tutelage, they all made billions. Adam really was a genius when it came to making money. The kids didn’t have to be geniuses. They just had to be very good in their respective fields. When the time came, they had to know what they were doing.
Time: Edging toward the end of the 21st Century
Place: The conference room in a house located on the South Pacific Island
Adam, Hep, and all but one of the couples were seated at a conference table in the middle of a very large room. Twenty minutes ago, Ivar had splashed down into the Pacific and tied the jet up to the dock. Now he escorted his last two passengers toward the room. Except for one of the mates, Adam and Hep knew them all.
Bryan Johnson, the zoologist, was the oldest of the kids. He was seated next to his partner, Veronica Aguilar. Verry’s Master’s thesis was concerned with plant breeding. Later, as her interest shifted, she wrote her PhD thesis on human genetics. She concentrated particularly on genetic risk factors.
Charley Wilson, the second oldest, sat next to his partner, Judy Fahr. Charley was an electrical engineer, but his educational background also reflected shifting interests. His Masters was in electrical engineering, his PhD in computer science where he concentrated on robotics. Judy’s background complemented Charley’s. Solidly built, light brown complexioned, she was both a structural and a hydraulic engineer.
The third kid was Zoe Davis. She was not only an aeronautical engineer, but had also been an astronaut. She knew her way around a spaceship. Counterintuitively, she had chosen an architect as her spouse. Blake Zuverink’s PhD thesis concerned the use of non-traditional materials in both traditional and non-traditional structures.
Randall Brown was the next kid down. He was an MD and had run the gamut of specialties from internist to surgeon. He was a truly eclectic fellow, much prized by his parents. His partner, however, was a puzzlement. No one had ever laid eyes on her. Randy introduced her. She was Jenny Wong, a chemist and a damn good one.
Adam held up his hand. “What happened to the last damn good chemist you brought in?”
“Well,” said Randy, “she really wanted to get married. Saw no reason why she couldn’t have a marriage certificate, a ring, a wedding with all the trimmings, and to hell with this anonymity.”
“So where is she?” Adam asked.
“We were going to get the marriage certificate the very next day when the poor woman had a heart attack. I thought it would be wise to have her flown to a top-ranked hospital. Belize seemed the best bet. Unfortunately, I had come down with the flu and couldn’t accompany her. I sent one of my male nurses to take care of her on the plane. Tragically, she died in the hospital and was cremated in Belize. One of the staff doctors issued a certificate. Her nurse suffered a fatal embolism before he left the hospital. That was a shame.”
Blake asked, “What happened to the doctor?”
Randy shook his head, sadly. “I don’t really know how it happened, but his catboat capsized off the coast and he drowned. Pity. He was a fine doctor.”
Adam turned to Hep. “You knew about this, didn’t you?”
Hep was laughing. “I did indeed. We didn’t tell you because you’d have read Randy the riot act about his stupidity in choosing a spouse, and followed that with advice he didn’t need.”
Adam narrowed his eyes and turned them on Jenny. “And did you know about this?”
Jenny was unfazed. “Of course. That damn fool would have put the kibosh on the whole thing.”
Adam was speechless. Finally, he laughed. “Okay, then. Randy really didn’t need my advice. Where’s our baby?
“Here I am, Daddy.” The youngest of the bunch entered, grinning. Edwin Miller was a rocket scientist. His partner was Lark McDougald, an astrophysicist. They took their seats at the table.
Adam said, “Before we get down to business, lemme ask Randy one more question. Had your dear departed started on her way to her first billion?”
“No way,” Randy said. “I was getting suspicious, so Mom and I kept putting her off until I made up my mind.”
“So Jenny inherits?” Adam asked.
“Inherits what?” Jenny answered. “The world as we know it is about to end and where we’re going has no use for money.” She thought for a minute. “I suppose we could blow it all on one helluva party.”
Adam laughed. “Make sure I’m invited.”
And with that they settled down to business.
Lark went first. “There’s a hush-hush government committee that’s planning how to get into space in order to rescue important people from the ravages of climate change. They asked me to serve on their advisory board. In the interest of political correctness they needed a she-creature, and I’m young enough and impressionable enough to be safe. They made me promise to keep the proceedings confidential. I assured them that I could keep a secret.”
Bryan’s burst of laughter was followed by the snorts and giggles of the rest of the assemblage.
“So what are they planning?” Blake asked.
“First, they had to decide where to go. They ran through the usual suspects—all of Earth’s planets plus some weirdies such as Ceres. They finally settled on—surprise!—Mars.”
“What’s wrong with that?” Judy wanted to know.
“Nothing that isn’t wrong with everything else,” Lark answered. “Of the known pos
sibilities Mars is probably the best bet, which doesn’t mean that it’s a good bet. People can’t exist there outside of space suits which, incidentally, are a lot less cumbersome than they used to be, but they still aren’t exactly leisure wear.”
Zoe laughed. “You said it, keed.”
Lark went on, “We don’t know what effect the lower Martian gravity will have on people despite the intensity of our scientific scrutiny over many years. The Martian atmosphere doesn’t support either plants or animals from Earth. And so on and so on.
“Even so, they might have managed a habitat, if only an uncomfortable one, if they’d shown a grain of intelligence as to whom they’ll put in the rescue ship.
“First, of course, is the President of the United States. They must have a leader, and God knows you can’t bypass the President and pick someone else. Then they’ve got to get a fair sprinkling of African Americans, Asians, and Native Americans. I don’t think they’re considering gorillas yet, but it may come to that.
“Then, of course, they need Christians and Jews and Muslims, Hindus and for all I know, Zoroastrians.”
“Democrats and Republicans?” asked Bryan.
“Uh uh,” Lark answered. “This whole government—Senate, House, White House—are all Republican. So no Democrats allowed aboard. They never asked what my political affiliation is. Everyone knows that billionaires are Republicans. Anyway they decided that they have to appeal to their base. Whatever that means.”
Judy said, “You wouldn’t believe it. A little way into the century there was a nutty movement called the Tea Party. It was made up of a bunch of people who didn’t think they should have to pay taxes.”
Charley laughed. “Sounds good to me.”
Judy said, “Sounded good to a lot of people in our tax bracket. Anyway, those nuts were soon joined by other nuts, some of whom survive to this day. You know, The Soda Pop Party who don’t like alcohol; The Herbalist Party who don’t like anything that tastes good; The Civil Animals Party who want our dogs and cats to have seats at the dinner table.”
Hep chimed in, “Don’t forget the latter day Pro-Life Party who don’t like women but adore unwanted babies.”
Lark continued. “It gets worse. They started to worry about whether some other country—Russia or China maybe—would beat us to the planet. So they’re arming the ship. We’ll either invade or repulse invaders.”
“I see,” said Randy. “So they’re going to arm all of those people who could destroy the Earth, even without the environmental factors, with every weapon they can lay their mitts on.”
Verry laughed. “The NRA’s dream come true.”
Randy asked, “Do you think a gaggle of Democrats would have done any better?”
“Of course not,” Lark replied. “They’d have appealed to their own base of left wingnuts.”
“Oh boy,” said Jenny, “can’t you just see the PC Police tromping around Mars in their spacesuits?”
General silence while the multitude contemplated the sight.
“So besides Democrats, who else is staying?” Judy wanted to know.
Lark responded. “Well, they don’t want evolutionists and climate change deniers don’t want them. They also aren’t too keen on most scientists.”
“Wait a minute,” said Verry. “Are you saying that these guys believe that climate change will destroy the Earth?”
Lark nodded. “I didn’t disabuse them. It’s somewhat more likely that the depleted ozone layer will do us in. And it’s a lot more likely that one of the religious thug groups will acquire the technology and get us into an Earth-destroying nuclear war. But when they went from climate change deniers to climate change embracers, the Republicans became zealots in that direction.”
Verry said, “And their science gurus didn’t damp them down?”
“Nope. Gurus that they are, they probably came to the same conclusion that I did. It doesn’t matter what chases them out of Earth as long as they get out. It’s hard to say what’s going to do it. And politicians being politicians, they always manage to delude themselves into thinking that what they believe is fact.”
“Unlikely as it is,” Jenny interjected, “they may not be that far off. Climate change ain’t gonna do it by itself. But in combination with the increasing rate of deforestration, the heightened level of carbon dioxide in the atmosphere, plus the extinction rate of species, and God knows what else, we may simply use up Earth.”
“That we will,” said Hep.
Adam was disgusted. “Well, the politicians don’t seem to be a threat to our mission. Who will we take aboard? Let’s stipulate Adults Only.”
Amens all around.
Ed Miller suggested, “It might be more efficient if we first decide who we aren’t going to take aboard.”
Bryan nodded. “We can start by cutting out groups with great potential to cause conflict.”
Jenny said, “Then only agnostics come on board. No religions including atheism.” Unanimous show of hands. Hep made a note.
Ed said, “Language causes problems. We don’t want a Tower of Babel.”
“How about,” said Judy, “everyone has to speak English as a first or second language.”
“And no more than two people are fluent in any language but English,” added Charley. “That way we won’t get a language clique forming.” Unanimous show of hands. Hep made another note.
“No economists or financial types,” Adam said.
“Why not?” asked Hep.
“They’re useless,” Adam responded. He thought. Then, “Except me.”
Verry put in, “No one with even the slightest genetic risk factor.”
“Such as?” Blake asked.
Verry thought, “Such as any current problem the candidate might have, like diabetes, or any predilection toward such things as heart or bipolar disease. We probably won’t catch everything, but we should start out as clean as we can.” Unanimous and another note.
“Except for Mom and Dad,” Ed said, “no one over fifty.”
Adam raised an eyebrow. “Why not?”
“We don’t know what rigors we’re going to meet. Older people might not be able to take it.”
Lark said. “If that’s the problem, let’s raise the age to sixty. If we’re screening out current health problems, that should be safe.”
The discussion went on for a while. Sixty year-old people might not have current health problems, but what are the odds that they’ll have one by the time the age of sixty one is reached?
They finally settled on fifty five for no other reason than to bring the discussion to an end.
“Anything else?” Hep asked.
“No pregnant women,” Zoe said. “We don’t want to deal with miscarriages and babies.”
All were in favor and Hep made the note.
“What about spouses?” Judy asked.
That was a puzzler. If they had good, otherwise willing candidates who wouldn’t leave beloved spouses behind, that would limit the pool to mostly single people. That limitation could prevent getting a sufficient number of scientists and workers who met the criteria. Finally they decided that spouses could be taken aboard as long as they too, passed all the other tests. But no children, unborn or otherwise.
That settled, Jenny said, “Nobody can bring any item designed to be a weapon. We’ll have to allow things that might be used as a weapon, but nothing designed for the purpose, such as guns and switchblades.” Unanimous consent. Hep made a note.
“This isn’t a conflict problem,” Randy said, “but I think we should rule out gays and lesbians.”
“For God’s sake, why?” Lark asked.
“Not for any moral concern,” Randy answered. “But we’re trying to populate a planet and gays and lesbians don’t further that goal.”
“Yabbut,” Charley demurred, “the guys can donate sperm and the women can accept them.”
“No question,” Randy answered. “But realize that we can take only five hundred people on bo
ard and with all of the personnel needs—carpenters and plumbers and electricians, farmers, and mechanics—we’re not going to be able to take a whole helluva lot of medical personnel. Now remember that we’re landing on an unknown planet. We don’t know what the health hazards will be. Do you really want to divert the medical personnel and equipment in order to maintain a sperm bank and deal with artificial insemination?”
Charley thought about it. “No. You’re right.” Unanimous show of hands. Hep’s note.
“Okay,” Adam said, “any more ideas?”
Silence. Adam went on, “We can add more categories later if any bright ideas occur. Meanwhile, between now and when Ed and Zoe find us a landing place, all of you scrutinize the personnel in your companies and start identifying possible pilgrims.”
Hep looked at Ed. “Are you making any progress in finding us a home?’
Ed said, “I think so. It’ll be about six months before we’re satisfied that the theory is sound. I’ll report back then.”
“And then what?” Blake asked.
“Then Zoe and I prove it. That’ll probably take about a year before you get the results.”
“Can’t you give us progress reports by radio?” Judy asked.
Adam entered the discussion. “Not a good idea, on the off-chance that someone might pick up the signal and track it. Encoding won’t help.”
“So,” said Bryan, “Six months up and six months back before we hear anything?”
“Something like that. If you don’t hear from us after eighteen months, punt.”
Time: Two months later
Place: The living area of the same house
Adam and Hep were sitting on a comfortable couch trying to remember the lyrics of a long-ago ballad. They weren’t making much progress because the lyrics of 2050 ballads didn’t make much sense. The coin of the language had progressed beyond the tweets and twats of the 2025’s and devolved into what appeared to be animal grunts. “I think it starts with ‘sklch’,” Adam opined.